The Story of Us
by Sarcasma
Summary: All relationships go through hell. Great relationships get through it. The story of Hermione and Ron, the pressures of real life, and a marriage that is tested. Real love takes work. R/Hr H/G
1. Engaged

**A/N:** One of the few things that Rowling has said that legit bothered me was that if she went back she would pair Harry and Hermione instead of Ron and Hermione. First, I love Harry/Ginny, and think his relationship with Hermione was perfect as a psuedo-sibling one. Second, yes, Ron and Hermione would probably need counseling, but I think that Ron was obviously changing for the better in the last book and really growing up. I always thought he was only going to get better and even so... every couple needs counseling at some point!

So here is my attempt at Ron/Hermione! This first chapter begins 3 years after the war, but the rest will be later in their marriage. Please review! If you are logged in while reviewing I do reply!

 _ **Engaged**_

Hermione narrowed her eyes as Ron worried and moved his lips back and forth, pressing them at odd angles so that his nose twitched as he moved his spoon through his soup, not picking any up.

"Alright?" Hermione asked.

Ron stopped, his top lip between his teeth. He released it and swallowed, putting on a forced grin, his eyes wider than when he smiled normally. "Er, yeah, yeah, what would be wrong?" he asked. "I mean, everything's good right? For you I mean? Your dinner."

"Yes, it's great," Hermione said with a chuckle. "Just like five minutes ago."

"Oh, right, right," Ron replied. "I forgot. How's… work? Been?"

"Fine," Hermione smiled wider. Ron had something on his mind and he nodded mindlessly as he looked away. She smiled to herself waiting until Ron decided to make small talk with her, discussing work and checking that she would be able to make family dinner at the Burrow that weekend.

"I was thinking maybe we could invite your parents," Ron added. Their entrees had just arrived.

Hermione finished chewing her bite of salmon.

"Why?" she asked. "I mean, why this weekend?"

"I don't know, I just thought it would be nice," Ron said.

"I'll check with them."

They had been dating for over three years by now. The first was spent apart as Ron started working for the Ministry and Hermione decided to go back to Hogwarts to finish out her final year and take the N.E.W.T.s. There was no discussion about where they were or what they were pursuing. The month following the war Ron went with Hermione to Australia as the two made a frantic effort to find where her parents had started a practice and found the best way to set their memories straight and fill them in on what had happened over the past year.

Ron had explained a lot of it. Hermione was a blubbering mess and he stood awkwardly to the side as the Grangers enveloped her and asked questions that he would then find a delicate way to answer. Finally they asked one that completely stumped him.

"And you're one of Hermione's friends?" Mrs. Granger asked.

Ron froze, looking to Hermione. She had anticipated that some of the details would be fuzzy, even though they remembered her right away. They would remember their lives up until her. The big events should be cleared. People they had met in passing, like Harry or the Weasleys, were a secondary return.

"This is Ron Weasley," she replied. "You've met him before. He's in my year at school and… he's my boyfriend."

Ron gave her the same blissfully dopey smile now across the table as he'd had when she made that declaration.

"What?" Hermione asked.

"Nothing," Ron laughed.

"You're acting strange tonight. Your mind on some game or another?"

"No" Ron said, reaching out for her hand. She stretched her own across the table. "It's just been a busy week. And it's good to finally get away from it with you."

Hermione loved this version of Ron. She had been surprised after everything settled in that he continued to grow more sweet and thoughtful. Except when he was moody. They never did well when either was moody, instead they would go into the office at the flat and do their own thing if they needed an hour or two to decompress after a long day. Hermione figured if they always kept that extra room they should do just fine.

After dinner, Ron wrapped his fingers in Hermione's, his palms more clammy than they had been in a long time. She raised their entwined fists and kissed the back of his hand, smiling as they walked quietly through Diagon Alley, most of the shops closing up and the street lights twinkling above them. They passed by Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes and George waved out the front window. He unlocked the door popping his head out.

"That man bothering you, Miss?" George asked with a mischievous grin.

"Not tonight," Ron muttered as Hermione laughed.

"I'm alright," Hermione said.

"Mum wanted to know what your favorite dessert is, by the way," George said.

Hermione tilted her head. "What for?"

"Nothing," George replied, that innocent expression that meant he was up to something clear, even with the darkening sky. "She just wanted to know. You know, for… your birthday or whatever. She's making a calendar."

Ron's hand tightened on hers and Hermione looked back. He was glaring at George, then stopped when he saw her. Smiling down. He nudged his head towards George and Hermione turned back.

"Strawberry trifle," Hermione replied.

"Right, I'll let her know," George said. "You make my little brother work before you give him any."

"Oi! That's enough," Ron said and George's smile only grew as he waved and closed the door. "What a git."

"What was that all about?"

"Nothing," Ron said. "Did you get around to reading that new book?"

About once a month, Ron would bring home a random book. Early on, he would send them by owl with a simple note: _Thinking of You_. Over the last year he was starting to understand which ones were just okay and which she would love. It was fast becoming her favorite thing about Ron. Once in awhile he would even read them with her. Unless they were about law and politics. He steered clear of those, saying he had enough of those. The latest title was a novelized book about a fifth century wizarding rebellion in France.

"I haven't been able to look yet," Hermione admitted. "I think I should be able to start it tomorrow."

"You think?" Ron asked. "Don't you have the day off?"

"No," Hermione sighed. "I have to go in to file some paperwork in the morning."

"You'll get a senior position in no time," Ron said.

Hermione grinned at him. They both knew it could be years. She had to pay her dues. She was offered a spot in the auror department, like many of the others close to Harry, but Hermione didn't want to fight. And she didn't want to chase down people like those they had fought in the war. Not that way. She wanted to change the laws. That was the only way for widespread change. It was the only way to change attitudes in the long term. On the side, she was researching House Elf policies since they officially began in the fifteenth century, tracing the sentiment and laws. They became slaves by the seventeenth century on a more formal level, with the inheritance laws that allowed wizarding families to pass along their house elves to their children. What she couldn't figure out is how the House Elves agreed to these policies in the first place. The final aspect of each elevation to their interment was enacted by the House Elves themselves. She figured out early on to not say anything if she wanted to stay in the Department of Law at the Ministry. In five years, she should be in a position to make things happen. Five years to get a platform and policy to get the public to rally behind. And she wasn't going to force people to buy pins this time. She was going to show them how equitable policies would benefit the wizards.

"Hey look," Ron said, pointing to Flourish and Blotts.

"What?" Hermione asked. The inside lights were off as was the storefront sign.

"Look, the alley door is open."

"We should close that," Hermione said, wondering how someone could have forgotten that one.

"Let's go have a look around," Ron suggested.

"We can't do that," Hermione gasped as Ron tugged on her hand. "Ron, we can't go in there when it's closed."

"Oh come on," Ron said, pulling harder. "We'll just look and see if they have anything new."

"It's not like we can buy it anyway."

"Then you can say you've snuck in a shop," Ron said. Hermione stayed put, so he let go of her hand, walking ahead with his hands in his pocket looking back at her with a grin that looked more like George's than she had seen before.

"Ron," she said, eyes wide.

He nodded his head towards the inside, disappearing into the dark of the building. Hermione's heart raced as she rushed towards the door.

"Ronald!" she said in a loud, harsh whisper. "Ronald Weasley, this isn't funny."

"Come on," his voice came from up the staircase just on the inside of the door. Hermione pulled out her wand.

" _Lumos_ ," Hermione whispered. She started biting the insides of her cheek, wondering why, after such a nice evening out, Ron would pull an immature, cheap, irresponsible stunt like this. He could get fired if they were caught. She could get fired if they were caught. She should go right out the door and leave him alone. Instead she moved up the steps, loading up in her mind an entire lecture for Ron.

She got to the top and froze. They were in an old attic, filled with bookshelves and lots of books. Strings of light were strung all around, glittering against the dark wood. In the center was a pedestal with a large, leatherbound book on top of it. She lowered her wand, walking over slowly. In a loopy writing lined in gold were the words "The Story of Us."

Hermione turned the cover. Inside was a picture of her and Ron. He was tickling her side and her nose was scrunched up, her front teeth prominent as he kissed her neck and looked out. She turned the page. One after the other Ron had written out stories. The good stories. She stopped and read slowly over the moment Ron claimed he knew how much he loved Hermione. He wrote that after he arrived at Bill's, after he had left Hermione and Harry, in the moments he wasn't feeling guilty, Ron would try and remember what her hand felt like in his and that's when he knew he couldn't be without her. On the next page, he wrote their first anniversary.

Hermione's eyes were already filled with tears when she looked up and found Ron smiling down at her.

"We shouldn't be here," was all she thought to say. Ron's grin grew.

"We're okay," he said. "I rented out the place."

"What?"

"They were a little skeptical about doing it at first," Ron said. "Apparently they don't get the request often. But when I told them it was to propose to their best customer…"

Hermione couldn't find words. They didn't exist. Ron reached over, flipping the book open to the middle. There was a long red ribbon marking the page hanging over the edge. Hermione hadn't noticed the ring tied to it before. On the right side of the page, were written the words _Will you marry me?_

"Yes!" Hermione shouted. Her hand shook as Ron took the ring, untying it and trying to put it on her finger. "Yes, yes, yes!"

Ron's smile split his face as he lined her jaw with his hands, kissing her over and over, the pedestal between them. Hermione closed her eyes and he kissed each of her eyelids, the tip of her nose, and her lips once more.

"So Sunday's dinner?" Hermione asked, the rest of the night finally making sense.

"Engagement party," Ron said. "You know, assuming tonight had gone well.

Hermione laughed as Ron grabbed the book, leading her over to where pillows were piled up. They sat tucked up together and Hermione turned each page, reading more carefully, reminiscing for the next several hours.

* * *

"Are they even up still?" Hermione asked as Ron knocked on the door to Harry's flat.

Ginny had started her second season with the Harpies, but was home for several weeks. Ron cleaned up the attic and then told Hermione he had promised Ginny to bring her by after. Hermione looked at her watch. It was past one in the morning.

"They better be," Ron said. "I told them to have some champagne ready."

"What if I'd said no?" Hermione asked.

"They better damn well have had some firewhiskey."

The door opened and Ginny's face was already etched with delight. "Let me see! Let me see the ring!"

They had been through this six months before, when Harry had asked Ginny. Ron had probed Hermione when Harry did that about whether or not she was expecting them to have gotten to this point yet. She was fine where they were at, she said. She figured when it was right, he would know it. And she had been right. That night had been perfect. She held out her hand to Ginny as Ron's sister held it up to her eye, doing something of a prancing in place with excitement.

"I officially have a sister!" Ginny declared.

"What about Fleur?" Harry asked from behind her.

Ginny didn't reply, but rolled her eyes, then turned to Ron, throwing her arms around his neck as Hermione moved inside, Harry giving her a hug, then inviting them into the living room. As Ron had said, there was champagne ready with four glasses.

"Sit down, I want to hear all about it," Ginny said.

Ron had told them about his plans. Ginny had come up with the making a book, though Ron had put it together on his own. The whole Weasley clan seemed to know about the potential engagement party that weekend as well, which came out when they began talking about when Ron mentioned running into him on the way to Flourish and Blotts.

"He was going to blow everything," Ron complained. "A month of planning and he was about to ruin it."

"He didn't ruin it," Hermione replied.

They moved on to wedding talk, plans for potential dates and how Ginny and Hermione were going to work out being one another's bride's maids.

"Well, one of us will just end up being a matron," Hermione concluded. "Unless…"

Ginny nodded, reading her mind.

"Unless what?" Ron asked.

"Double wedding?" Ginny asked. Hermione nodded.

"No," Ron said. "No, you know how crazy Mum would be with that?"

"Why not?" Ginny said, reaching over and topping off each of the glasses. "We're going to practically have the same guest list."

"The Grangers—"

"Won't be that big an addition. We're going to have to settle the half muggle event anyway and it's not like Harry's going to have a large list," Ginny said.

"Ouch," Harry said.

"Oh, you know what I mean," Ginny said. "Everyone you would invite, our family would invite anyway. It's basically like two guest lists, all said and done."

"It would save your mum from two sets of planning," Hermione said.

"Come on," Ron said. "Really? You want to share your wedding day?"

"If it were Harry and Ginny, I wouldn't mind," Hermione said. "But if you don't want to, we can do our own."

Hermione grabbed Ron's hand and he took a deep breath. No, he wanted his own thing. Hermione should have thought that would be obvious. Ron was better than he used to be, but he still struggled with not feeling special among his half dozen brothers. George came to him more now. After Fred died, George struggled to find his own place in the family without his twin and Ron was easily the best person to help him navigate. Still, a shared moment like his wedding would be a lot to ask of Ron, and Hermione wouldn't.

"So, have you started practicing signing your name as _Weasley_ yet?" Ginny asked.

"Oh, I not changing my last name," Hermione said. Ron's hand stiffened in hers.

"You aren't?" Ron asked.

She turned towards him. His brow was knit, his lip slightly curled in disgust.

"No, I'm not," Hermione said. "I always knew I would keep my last name."

"You didn't tell me that," Ron said.

"Why? Did I need to? It changes things?" Hermione snapped back.

"No, but it just would have been nice to wrap my head around the fact that my future wife hates my last name."

"I never said I hated your name, Ron," Hermione said. She let go of his hand and turned more fully towards him.

"Then why wouldn't you? Ginny's changing her name," Ron said, throwing a hand towards his sister.

"Yes, well she has half a dozen brothers that are passing on her maiden name. My parents only have me," Hermione said. Her voice was heightening and her face was burning as Ron's face was twisting in more anger.

"But it's tradition!"

"It's an arbitrary system which requires women to give up a part of their own identity to be with someone, while the man has to change nothing! No offense, Ginny."

"Oh, no, it's… it's okay," Ginny stammered.

"There are many cultures in which the wife doesn't change her name," Hermione added.

"Well, we aren't in those cultures, are we?" Ron shouted back.

"I'm not just going to change my name because of some archaic tradition!"

"But you didn't seem to mind the _archaic tradition_ where the man buys you a bloody expensive diamond ring!" Ron retorted. "You're just fine with that one, are you?"

Hermione's mouth tightened as she stood, picking up her purse. She looked over where Ginny and Harry were sitting uncomfortably, looking between the two of them. Hermione stiffened and Ron stood as well.

"Thank you for having us over," Hermione said. "See you later."

"Hermione—" Ron said, but she had turned, going back to their flat.

Hermione stood in the darkened living room for several minutes. A loud pop and Ron was there too. Rather than the yelling resuming, Ron turned on his heels and moved to their spare room, slamming the door behind him. Hermione dropped her purse where she was and stormed into their bedroom. She slammed drawers as she pulled out her night clothes, brushed her teeth, and splashed her face with water. She stood at the sink, taking off her ring, then putting it back on, then off again. She rubbed lotion on her arms and then finally put the ring back on.

Turning off all the lights, she crawled into the bed, pulling the covers over her and faced the window, digging her face into the pillow. Once she stopped moving, the tears came. She cried, wondering how she could know why he wouldn't want to share his wedding day, but that he couldn't seem to understand why she wouldn't want to change her name. That he would take it so personally. The bedroom door opened and she stifled a sob, though it became choked blubber. She didn't move, even as Ron's weight shifted the mattress.

He moved, the covers lifting and falling, his body coming right behind her. His body spooned hers as he wrapped an arm around her waist.

"I'm sorry," he whispered into her ear. Hermione sniffed. "Sorry I was being a prat. I don't care what your last name is, I just want to be your husband. If I haven't completely screwed that up."

Hermione turned in his arms. The faint light coming through the window made his face just visible above hers.

"You mean that?" Hermione asked.

"One hundred percent," Ron said. "Although, I was thinking we could change your first name."

His grin had returned.

"My first name?"

"Yeah, it's too easy to say," Ron said. "We should give people a real tongue twister."

"Does that mean we're both changing our first names?"

"Sure," Ron replied. "Even better, we can come up with some kind of suitable set. Like Sunshine and Rainbow."

Hermione laughed, raising a hand to his neck. "Which are you?"

"Sunshine, of course," Ron said.

Hermione laughed, biting her bottom lip as she moved her other hand up, cupping Ron's face in her hands. "I love you."

"I love you too, Hermione Granger," Ron said, moving so his nose brushed hers.


	2. Birthday

**Birthday**

 _September 2011_

"Excuse me," Ron said, scooting past a few officials in the second row of the audience at the Ministry. He wiped at his mouth, trying to make sure none of his sandwich was left there as he ate it on the way from his office. "Sorry, sorry," he muttered as Hector Fowler, Head of Magical Law Enforcement, stood and pointed his wand at the microphone to turn it on. He cleared his throat to get the attention of everyone in the area.

Ron settled into his chair, leaning back and crossing his leg over his knee. He looked up at the row of officials sitting behind the podium, Hermione to the far right, her feet crossed at her ankles, combing back the fringe she was growing out with her fingers. She caught Ron's eye and gave a small grin. Ron winked back.

"After years of tireless effort from Mrs. Granger, the relations between wizards and other magical beings are stronger than they have been in well over a century. Her appointment to the Wizengamot council and new position in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement will continue to make our community strong and unified," Fowler said.

There was applause from the crowd, filled with Ministry workers and members of the press. Most of the heads of the departments were up on the stage, including Harry a few seats down from Hermione. She stood, rolling her shoulders back how she always did when getting ready to speak. She smiled wide as she met Fowler in the center of the stage, shaking his hand and giving a polite kiss on the cheek before taking her place at the podium.

"Thank you, Mr. Fowler," Hermione started. "It is an honor to be considered for these dynamic and important roles within our Ministry system. Justice has never been an easily navigated endeavor. It takes persistence, principle, and a deep questioning of one's own role in the process…"

Hermione continued and Ron listened, concentrating word by word, filled with pride at the humble, gracious speech, though he had heard it half a dozen times the past week. He noticed she switched around the sections discussing muggle relations and the work that must continue with other magical creatures and communities to find the best solutions to their place in the world. It worked well, Ron thought.

As she finished, there was another smattering of applause and some public relations person made some closing remarks and the crowds stood, chatter breaking out all over the room. Ron pushed his way through, making it up to the platform and stepping up behind Hermione as she was speaking with the Head of the Department of Transportation.

"I would certainly be happy to meet with you on that," Hermione said. Ron put his hand on the small of her back and she looked over, smiling, then turned back to the woman. "Send me an owl and we'll schedule a meeting soon."

"Lovely," the department head said. "Mr. Granger," she added with a nod.

"Yeah, good to…" he didn't finish as she wandered off.

"You made it," Hermione said. "They had a spot up with me for you at the last minute, but you weren't here yet."

"Oh, well I had paperwork I was trying to finish up. If I'd known—"

"It's alright," Hermione waved it off. She did it with that whispy little hand gesture that meant this would come up again. Not right away, but at some point. It could be one of her points in an argument when Ron was running late. Or it might just be including in a smaller remark, like the next time there was a conference like this when she would remind him to be earlier after what happened today, but it would certainly come up again.

"You switched some of those bits around," Ron said.

"Yeah, Harry was looking it over for me and thought it was a better order," Hermione said. "Funny how you can look at things a million times and not catch something like that."

"Yeah," Ron said. "Well, it really was nice."

"Mrs. Granger?" a reporter called from across the stage. Hermione raised a finger and turned back to Ron.

"I'm sorry, I have to get through all of this," Hermione said. She placed a hand around Ron's neck and he kept one on her waist. "Can you pick up the kids? This may be longer than I thought."

"Rose was really looking forward—"

"I know, I know," Hermione said. "Just… I'll take her out this weekend. Mother-daughter date to make up. I just needed to check that you can get away and—"

"Yeah, yeah I can get away," Ron said. "I better go turn everything in and I'll get Rose and Hugo."

"Thank you," Hermione said. She leaned in and gave him a quick kiss. "Oh, and can you make sure their bathed and ready for when we need to leave for the show?"

"They'll be ready, I'll be ready," Ron said.

"And can you double check with Harry that it's alright to take them tonight? And let me know right away if they can't, because I can—"

"I'll take care of it," Ron cut her off. "You just get everything done so we can have a nice night with your parents for your birthday."

"Alright," Hermione said. She gave him one more peck on the lips, then turned around to the crowd of people vying for her attention.

Ron stuck a hand in his pocket and scratched the back of his head with the other. He turned and walked down the steps. He noticed Harry off to the side, others from the top tiers of the Ministry chatting with him. No one stopped Ron or asked for a moment of his time as he walked out of the conference room, heading to the lift to get back to work.

He sat, writing out a long report. Harry had asked for it that morning. It should have been done three days before, but Ron was endlessly behind on his paperwork. It was the worst part of the job. He concentrated, looking at his watch and writing out sticky notes for other things to get to when this was done: check in with McGovern's wife about what she knew concerning her husband's activities before he attacked that muggle pub… see that all the paperwork was in with the dance studio so Rose could start up ballet with her classmates… look into the missing persons files to see if there were any similar incidences to Tor Flander's disappearance.

Ron was almost done with the report when Harry popped into his cubicle.

"Hey, Ron," Harry said, leaning back on his desk. "Got that report done?"

"Just about," he replied. "I'll get it to you, then I have to go get Rose and Hugo, if that's okay. And Hermione wanted to check that the kids can still come for a sleepover with their cousins."

"Yeah, Ginny's got something planned for that, but I thought Hermione was picking them up on Fridays?" Harry asked.

"She was," Ron said. "With everything going on today, she wasn't sure she'd be off in time and—"

"Eh, it's fine," Harry said, waving off the rest of what Ron had to say. "Just see if you can't figure out something later."

Ron knew that Harry was really doing him a favor by holding him to the same standard as everyone else. The water cooler talk was about how Harry let Ron get away with more than the rest of them often enough that Ron simply nodded, though he didn't know what to do to make sure this didn't happen. He took the kids each morning, so coming early wasn't really possible, and he had been against hiring a nanny. Hermione had suggested it for a few days a week, but Ron didn't like the idea of them being with others most of each day, no matter how good a caretaker they found. Not when he had been raised around family, his mum taking care of everyone all day growing up.

When Hermione wanted to start Rose in a muggle preschool, Ron had been hesitant. Then Hermione wanted to enroll Rose into a muggle private school for primary education. It was a top academy and Ron wasn't sure how he felt about it, but Hermione insisted that the school would give the children a strong academic background and Rose, like Hermione, was so smart, Ron couldn't help but think Hermione must be right on it. Of course, there was all he had to do to figure out the muggle side of things. They each got cell phones, so the school and parents and teachers could contact them. Hermione had figured out how to make them work in the Ministry building. Ron's was still a bit fuzzy when he got a call at work, but it happened infrequently enough to not bother him too much.

Then there was preparing Rose and Hugo for dealing with their muggle classmates. When Rose was four and in preschool, she tried to tell another student about how her parents did magic.

"That's just make believe," the other child claimed.

"It is not!" Rose insisted.

In the process, the other child somehow ended up on the roof of the playground, screaming until one of the teachers let him down. The adults wrote off Rose's story as a figment of her imagination, but talked to Ron when he came to pick her up about how she had somehow convinced this other child to climb up the pole to the top and how difficult it had been to get him down again.

"We will speak with Rose tonight," Ron promised.

When they talked with Rose, they told her about how that was a secret part of her being there, her own little special thing she knew. She was to tell anyone that asked that her mum was a barrister and her dad was a military strategist. They were better prepared for the conversation with Hugo.

Ron picked Hugo up first.

"Dad!" Hugo shouted, running away from a group of his friends and jumped up and into his arms.

"Miss me?" Ron asked with a large smile. Hugo nodded enthusiastically with his big brown eyes. After having Rose, Ron had a hard time imagining what having a boy might be like, but Hugo could make Ron laugh harder than almost anything else. He was four, talkative and bouncy, and always trying to put on a show. "What did you do today?" Ron added, grabbing Hugo's backpack and helping him put it on.

"Christopher H. was Ironman, Devin was Captain America, and I was Hulk," Hugo said. He stopped and did an impression, growling and flexing muscles. Ron didn't have a clue who any of them were, but laughed. "Missy wanted to be Spiderman, but she had to be Black Widow because she's a girl."

"Hey now," Ron said, opening the door to the preschool, leading Hugo out by the hand. "Who are you to tell her what she can't be?"

"Spider _man_ , Dad," Hugo emphasized.

"You let Missy play whoever she wants, just like the rest of you, you understand?" Ron said.

"Yes, Dad," Hugo said, exasperated. He launched into telling Ron about the projects and assignments his class had done, the letter of the day, and singing the days of the week song for Ron as he lifted Hugo on his shoulders and walked towards Rose's school, waiting at the gate with the gathering mums, nannies, and (there were a handful) other dads.

"Hey," Hugo squeaked, mid-thought. "Where's Rose?"

"She'll be out in a mo," Ron replied.

When all the students came pouring out of the school, Ron started to look, seeing Rose exit between two clumps of giggling girls. She smiled, looked around a bit more, and her smile fell. Hugo was waving his hands like a maniac atop Ron's shoulders.

"Where's Mum?" Rose asked. "She was supposed to come today."

"Mum was caught up with work meetings," Ron said. Rose humphed. "What am I, chopped liver?"

"No," Rose said, still with a heavy dejection in her voice.

"Mum said she'll take you out this weekend. Just you two," Ron said.

"Hey! What about me?" Hugo asked. "What am I, chopped liver?"

"Yes," Ron replied to him. "And I was planning chopped liver for dinner."

Hugo laughed emphatically, but Rose's frown didn't budge.

"What is it?" Ron asked.

"Our projects were on the board, but Miss Ford said she's taking it down this weekend," Rose explained. "I wanted to show Mum."

"Well, let's go in and see it," Ron suggested, taking Rose's hand and letting her lead the way through the school hallways. Ron signed in at the front and followed as Rose became more and more bubbly.

"We had to write about what we want to be when we grow up," Rose explained. "And Miss Ford wrote on mine 'very inspiring.'"

They came to a board with a blue background and a crimped golden border, papers pinned all over, at various angles and with the names written across the top of each page. At the age of six, Rose was one of the more meticulous students, her name written beautifully. Rose had growled in frustration with practice pages she had begged from her teacher the year before. Hermione sat with her and Rose worked at it over and over until her name looked perfect. Other students' were hardly legible, but every word on Rose's was clear.

 _When I grow up, I want to write about history. I want to write books that my mum can read and will love as much as all her other books._

Above was a picture of two stick figures, the first at a desk, bent over with a quill in hand, the other sitting in a chair, legs hanging over the arm the same way Hermione sat while reading at home, with a book as large as its body back on its lap.

"That is wonderful!" Ron said. "Your mum is going to love this!"

"I wanted her to see it up on the board," Rose said with a sigh.

"Well, there's a camera on this thing, right?" Ron asked, pulling out the barely used phone from his back pocket. "Do you know where…"

He opened it up and had Rose show him which buttons to push until he had it lined up and got a picture. He had to do it three times before it wasn't blurry and everything was clear to read. Rose was laughing at him each step of the way.

"Hi there, Rose," someone behind them said.

Ron turned around and Rose waved happily at the woman in the doorway of the classroom across from them.

"You must be Mr. Weasley," she said. "My name is Miss Ford. Rose's teacher."

"Oh, right," Ron said. "The new one."

There had been a different teacher at the beginning of the year who had to take a sudden leave of absence. Letters had gone out to all the parents, but neither Ron or Hermione had been able to come down to meet her in person just yet. She was on the young side, fresh out of a University program, and energetic. She wore a pale pink lipstick and just a little mascara, but seemed pretty natural otherwise. Ron held out his hand and she took it.

"Pleasure to meet you. Rose hasn't stopped talking about you," Ron said.

"Same," Miss Ford said. "She certainly thinks the world of you. Rose has told me what a comedian you are."

Rose half hid behind Ron, holding his hand tightly in a _please-don't-embarrass-me_ stance. Ron squeezed her hand in his.

"Dad humor, I'm afraid," Ron said. "I've got a few more years before they catch on that not as much a laugh as they think."

"What am I, chopped liver?" Hugo said from Ron's shoulders.

Miss Ford laughed, looking up at him. "You must be Rose's brother."

"The one and only," Hugo said.

"Hugo," Rose said behind gritted teeth.

"What a nice family you have," Miss Ford said to Rose. Rose tucked herself farther behind Ron.

"What do you say when someone says something nice to you?" Ron prodded.

"Thank you," Rose said quietly.

Miss Ford smiled wide. "You're quite welcome," she replied, then turned back to Ron. "Your daughter is a pleasure to have in class. I look forward to meeting Rose's Mum. Will we see both of you at the parent-teacher night in a few weeks?"

"I believe so, yes," Ron said.

"Great! We'll see you Monday, Rose. Have a lovely weekend."

"You, too," Rose said.

Miss Ford turned and went back into her classroom, shutting the door behind her. Rose came out from behind Ron and they made their way out of the school and walked home.

Rose put up her backpack and played school with Hugo until he'd had enough of being the student, then he went off to play with his toys as Rose grabbed some paper and started to write. Ron dug through the refrigerator, pulling out leftovers to make a modge podge meal.

"Are we poor, Dad?" Rose asked, tilting her head.

"What?" Ron asked. "No, what gives you that idea?"

"Everyone else at school has their own phone," Rose said. "Katie said it's because you and Mum are poor and that I must be on a scholarship program to be at the school."

"Your mum and I only have phones because you're at a muggle school," Ron explained, grabbing a stack of plates and laying them out. Hugo got the biggest one, because for the last few months he refused to eat any food if it had touched another food. "Wizards and witches don't use telephones."

"But everyone has one," Rose said.

"Just because everyone else has something, doesn't mean you need one, too," Ron said.

"Katie said that it's weird we don't have a car, too."

"Maybe Katie needs to shut her big fat mouth," Ron said.

"Daddy," Rose said, obviously frustrated that he wasn't getting the point.

"We might get a car someday," Ron said. "But we don't need it. Besides, if Katie saw how your dad drove, she would understand why we don't have a car."

Rose smiled at this, rolling her eyes and turning back to whatever story she was writing. Ron dished up various bits of the past week's dinner onto the two plates, placing one in front of Rose and calling for Hugo to come downstairs.

"The sandwich is touching the lettuce!" Hugo exclaimed, the green edge of one bit of salad touching the crust of the bread.

Ron picked up the sandwich, took a large bite, then ate the leaf of lettuce, placing the rest clearly apart.

"Dad," Hugo groaned as Rose giggled.

* * *

Hermione walked up to the ministry's owlry with a half dozen letters to send off. She had some idea of the day's agenda, but the approach of several ministry members that were unexpected had lengthened the amount of time at the meeting as well as the press conference afterwards. Fowler was sure the attention would slow quickly. Had she simply moved departments, it wouldn't have mattered. The appointment to the Wizengamot brought in a very different discussion, particularly because she was so young. Most members of the Wizengamot were assigned after twenty to twenty-five years of service in the legal system and Hermione had been in an underappreciated department for just ten before being approached by Shaklebolt and Fowler about moving to the larger department under which she was situated and inducted a member of the prestigious council.

Hermione beamed the day she went home to tell Ron the month before. They talked about scheduling and the assignments that would come up. The flexibility Ron had as an Auror helped, as he could go in on weekends or bring some of the paperwork home to finish up if it was absolutely necessary.

"We can always hire a nanny," Hermione said. "We will have plenty extra with the promotion."

"No, we don't need to do that," Ron had argued immediately. "We're their parents, we can handle it."

"Ron, there's nothing wrong with getting a nanny."

"Look, if my mum could juggle seven children—twelve if you count Fred and George—we can manage two," Ron said, pouring them each a glass of wine.

Hermione stopped arguing at that point, biting back a comment about how neither of them was his mother. She adored Molly, but that wasn't the point. One of Hermione's favorite people growing up was the part time nanny her parents hired to pick her up from school and watch her when she was in primary school. She was like the older sister Hermione had once wished she had, but Ron wouldn't hear it and hadn't when she'd brought it up in the past.

Once the owls were all sent, Hermione rushed to the apparition hall.

"Mrs. Granger, can I—"

"Not today, Fiona," she said. "Put it on my desk or leave me a note."

"Yes, Mrs. Granger."

Hermione apparated into their living room. "Ron?" she called out. She moved towards the stairs. "Rose, sweetheart? Hugo?"

"I took them to Harry and Ginny's," Ron said.

"Did you remember to pack—"

"Hugo's elephant, yes," he said. "And Rose's eye drops. You do know I'm their dad, right?"

"I was slightly aware," Hermione said, changing course towards the master bedroom. "Can we be ready soon? I'd like to go by and at least give them a hug and kiss before dinner, if I can."

"I'm ready," Ron said. "I've been ready."

Hermione went into the room, taking off her work robes and finding a dress that would be suitable for dinner and the theater with her parents. She laid out the dress and went into the bathroom. Ron followed, leaning against the door jamb, a hand in his suit pocket.

"Rose had been hoping you would have been able to see her assignment on the board when you picked her up today," Ron said.

"Oh, well, maybe I'll see if I can pick them up Monday."

"Miss Ford is taking it down after the weekend," Ron replied. He pulled out his phone. "I got a picture of it, though. Let me see if I can figure out where in this thing—"

"I'll look at it later," Hermione said. "Right now, we need to get ready, Ron."

"I _am_ ready," he said.

Hermione grabbed a brush and started running it through her hair, trying to pull it up and back, taking pins and putting them in place. She grabbed a little makeup next, hurrying to put on some mascara and a little lipstick.

"You should have seen Hugo and Lily when I was dropping the kids off. Hugo ran over and hugged her tight and said _you're my best friend_." Ron chuckled at the story. "Teddy was there, too. He wanted to show something off to you—"

"I get it, I should have gotten off work sooner," Hermione said. She saw Ron's reflection stiffen in the doorway, his brow furrow. "I was trying to get out, but everyone was pulling me every which way today, Ron. It just couldn't be helped."

"I was just saying—"

"You always do this," Hermione said. "Every time work demands just a little more from me, you start laying it on thick."

"I'm not laying anything on!" Ron shouted back. "I just thought you'd like to hear about how your children's afternoon was!"

"Can I just get ready first?" Hermione demanded. "Please? Ten minutes, Ron, that's all I need."

"Fine," Ron said, throwing his hands in the air. "Fine."

He walked out of the room and Hermione let out a breath. Monday she would have to find some way to get off early. Ron could take them in the morning, so she could leave before it was light out, if she needed. If she read all her briefings Sunday, that should cut back on her to do list as well. She would ask Rose what she wanted to do this weekend and cut out a few hours somewhere. That would make it up to Rose.

Hermione finished her makeup, checked the pins in her hair to be certain they would stay, and got the dress most of the way on before heading to the living room. Ron was sitting in an arm chair, his foot bouncing over his knee as she came out. She shouldn't have yelled at him.

"Can you help me zip this up the rest of the way?" she asked gently.

Ron pushed himself to his feet, stepping over as she turned around. He lifted the zipper to the top and Hermione turned back to him as he traced her waist beneath his hands. She reached up to his lapel of his jacket, straightening it out, even though it already looked nice.

"It's been a long day," Hermione said quietly.

Ron pulled her into him, leaning down and kissing her deeply. "Well, let's go enjoy your birthday dinner and the show, okay?"

Hermione nodded, worrying her bottom lip as she took a deep breath. The faster she could settle into these new positions, the better.

"Think we have time for you to see Rose and Hugo?" Ron asked. Hermione looked at her watch.

"Yes, I think we can do that."

* * *

Ron never felt like he had much to contribute when the Grangers all got together. Hermione's parents were pleasant and always tried to include them, but even with what he had to know for the kids with cell phones and movies, it barely scratched the surface of what there was to understand about muggles.

It was when they started sharing stories about Rose and Hugo that Ron finally pulled out the phone, telling the story about what Rose had shown him. Hermione had to help him find the photos and she looked equally touched and upset by what Rose had written.

"Make sure you put that on the refrigerator when her teacher sends it home," Hermione said.

"Of course," Ron said with a grin.

The show was better. The Grangers had bought the tickets to _The Wizard of Oz_ as Hermione's birthday present, telling Ron about how she had watched the movie endlessly as a child. The longer they were in the theater, the more Hermione visibly relaxed. By intermission, she was leaning against him. Ron put one arm around her, reaching for her hand with his other. They stood outside the theater with Hermione's parents talking for a little longer at the end.

"You should bring the children by soon for dinner," Mrs. Granger said.

"We will," Hermione replied, giving her a large hug. "Maybe next weekend?"

"Next weekend Charlie's in town," Ron reminded her. "What about the week after that? Saturday?"

"We'll put it on the calendar," Mr. Granger replied. "Although don't be surprised if Valerie drops in to see them before that."

"You're welcome anytime," Hermione said, hugging him as well. They gave Ron a hug each as well and hailed a cab as Hermione and Ron went to an alley to apparate home.

They got to their bedroom and Hermione went to the bathroom, looking in the mirror as she removed her earrings. Ron stepped up behind her, undoing the clasp of the necklace. She caught it as he traced his fingers down her shoulders, moving the straps and pressing his lips down her neck. She tipped her head to the side and Ron pulled down her zipper, the dress slipping from her as Hermione turned to face him, hands on his chest. She let the dress fall but as Ron leaned in she pulled back.

"It's been a really long day," Hermione whispered.

Ron looked down at her, wondering when every day had turned into a long day. He nodded, but held onto her a little longer. "I know," he said. "We are kid free, though. We can have a lie in tomorrow."

Hermione helped pull Ron's jacket off, but hung her wrists on his shoulders as they swayed back and forth for several minutes. Hermione closed her eyes and leaned into him, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as he continued to hold her. He kissed the top of her head, some of her hair coming loose after their whole night out.

"I'll take you and the kids out for cake on Monday to celebrate your actual birthday," Ron said. Hermione nodded and sighed.

The moment was over. She turned back around, washing her face as Ron undressed, throwing on his flannel pajamas and a plain white shirt and crawled into the bed as Hermione continued her own ritual. He laid on his back, hands tucked behind his head.

Five years before, she would have crawled in beside him, head against his shoulder and an arm wrapped around his waist. She would have reached up and kissed him, which may or may not have lead to other things, but they would have been close and tight and falling asleep in each other's arms.

But it wasn't five years ago. It was now.

Hermione adjusted the covers, turned to the lamp on her nightstand and turned it off. She curled up facing away from Ron and he just watched the profile of her body as he could see it.

"Goodnight," Ron said.

"Goodnight," Hermione replied.


	3. Nanny

_**Nanny**_

Hermione kept looking at the photo of Rose and Hugo looking up at her while trying to concentrate on Jodi Perkins, the woman who took over the part-giant legislation platform. Hermione still had one hand in the process, trying to make sure everything went through and there was more protection for Hagrid and wizards like him. They were looking at an expansion to cover all creature influenced persons, including werewolves and guaranteeing their right to work and housing.

"People are coming around to part giants, Hermione, but werewolves…"

"This isn't the nineteen seventies anymore," Hermione replied, rubbing her forehead. "A potion to help has been developed and production through a reliable source has been streamlined. They don't even have to make it themselves anymore, there are companies that stock it."

"But the infected are afraid to buy it publicly and out themselves," Jodi countered.

"Talk with the public relations department," Hermione said, finally grabbing her briefcase, stuffing papers inside as she stood. Jodi followed suit, standing across from her. "We need to remove this stigma and it's going to take the legislation as well as a campaign. Something to run in the Prophet and posters in Diagon Alley."

"Okay, and can we talk about—"

"Sorry, Jodi, but I need to go pick up Rose and Hugo," Hermione said. "We'll chat tomorrow?"

"Okay," Jodi said with a sigh.

Hermione lead her to the door, then turned towards the lift. "And one more thing," Hermione shouted over her shoulder. "They're people, not _the infected_."

Hermione rushed through the crowds at the ministry, getting to the fireplaces and getting as close to Hugo's school as possible. She checked her watch. She was a full hour behind. Hermione walked quickly, holding the front gate open for another mum and her daughter, then entered.

"Oh, Mrs. Granger," the receptionist said, stopping her before she turned down the hallway.

"Yes?" Hermione asked.

"I'm sorry, your husband already came by for Hugo," she said.

"Did he?" Hermione asked. "Was there something wrong?"

"He is just always here right at three and Hugo started asking about why no one was here and we called to check," she said.

Hermione reached into her pocket for her cell phone.

"I didn't receive a call—"

"We called your husband," she said. "Since he seems to be the one in charge of pick ups."

"We both do pick ups."

"Oh, well," the receptionist started looking awkward in her chair. "We hadn't seen you in a while, but… but we can make sure to call you first next time... o-or as well, if you'd prefer."

Hermione stayed still for a moment, trying to remember exactly when she had been here last. Yes, Ron took the children each morning, but they had discussed doing equal pick-ups. The last Friday she had a late meeting. The Monday before, there was a last minute emergency. The week before that she had spent almost every night working on a deadlined bit of work. Almost three weeks and she thought her and Ron were dealing with her new schedule well, but then there were times before then that Ron had taken over her days as well.

"No, that's alright," Hermione said. "I'll talk to him about letting me know."

"Alright Mrs. Granger," the receptionist said. "Have a nice evening."

"You as well," Hermione said.

She walked down the street towards Rose's school, though she already knew she wasn't going to find her daughter there. Once she passed the empty school yard, she looked around and apparated home, setting down her briefcase.

There were endless giggles coming from the kitchen. She took a breath and walked in through that door. Ron was making cookies with Hugo and Rose sitting on the counter near him, a wide smile plastered on Ron's face. She leaned against the doorway, watching how his hair fell across his eyes. He needed a haircut, but she liked the unkempt look and how it seemed to match the flour spattered apron and the bit of dough across his nose.

Hugo laughed with his head completely stretched back and Rose's giggle trilled happily through the room. She had flour in her hair and on her cheeks as well. It became clear why in a moment when she dipped her hands in the container with the flour, rubbing them together, then patted her hands against her cheeks, her mouth in a faux surprised o, eyebrows raised. The flour made a cloud of white as Hugo laughed even harder, Ron's laugh added to it, loud and clear.

"What sort of nonsense is happening here?" Hermione asked, walking over to Rose. She ran her fingers through Rose's hair, trying to get some of the flour out. Ron caught her eye and Hermione smiled at him.

"We are making Grandma's cookies!" Hugo said. "Daddy let me have some of the dough."

"Ron, I just read a study about illnesses that—"

"It's fine," Ron interrupted her, scooping up some of the dough with his fingers holding them right in front of her mouth. He smiled at her, raising his eyebrows. "Don't fret so much."

Hermione sighed and leaned forward, taking the dough between her teeth. Ron turned on the water, washing off his hands as she ate the dough.

"I want some more," Hugo said.

"Not until after dinner," Ron said.

"I'll get something started," Hermione added, moving towards the other side of the counter.

"There's already baked pasta in the oven," Ron said, grabbing Hugo and taking him off the counter. Rose was next, the two of them tackling Hermione's legs. She hugged each and turned to grab a butterbeer from the refrigerator.

"Mum, come out and play with me!" Rose said, tugging on her hand.

"It's a bit cold out there, sweetheart," Hermione said.

"I put a cover charm on the yard."

"You shouldn't—"

"I'll take it off when the kids are done," Ron said. Hermione let out a breath.

"Alright, then off you two go," Hermione said. "If it starts getting chilly, come back in, yes?"

"Yes, Mum," Rose replied, exasperated.

Ron took two spoons, using them to start making little shaped balls of dough on cookie sheets, preparing them to be baked.

"How was your day?" Ron asked.

"Fine," Hermione replied, shrugging off her jacket and walking over to grab a stack of plates. "I wish you would have told me you were getting the kids, though."

Ron shrugged. "The preschool called. I figured you must be running late, and since Rose can't stay long after they release her I—."

"I had it under control," Hermione said. Ron stopped.

"I never thought you didn't," he said. "Do you have a problem with me picking them up?"

"Of course not," Hermione said. "I just would like to know if you've already done it so I don't waste my time."

"Sorry, I didn't want to interrupt with a Ministry memo," Ron said.

"You could make use of the cell phones and send me a message. I would have gotten it," Hermione suggested. Ron tilted his head. "I'll show you later."

"Think you'll be out on time tomorrow?" Ron asked, opening the oven door and pulling out a dish of pasta, replacing it with the cookie dough.

"I was out on time today," Hermione snapped. "Work is until five, Ron, I was out by four. We both know I rarely even work past six. "

"That's what not what I meant," Ron replied, tracking her with his eyes as she began chopping lettuce for a salad. "Rose's school has the parent-teacher night tomorrow. I just wanted to make sure you're able to make it."

"Of course I'll make it."

Hermione and Ron looked at each other and she could tell they each had something else to say, but both of them bit it back, turning to the dinner.

"I'm going to need to go in tonight to finish up some work," Ron said. "I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," Hermione said. "Is there a lot extra happening in the department?"

"No, just catching up from leaving early."

Hermione stayed quiet again, knowing an argument was coming if she continued that path. They called in Rose and Hugo as Ron dished up their plates. As they all settled into place, Hermione reached over, placing a hand on Ron's knee. He looked over and smiled, leaning over to give her a kiss.

"Yuck!" Hugo said.

Ron turned to him, laughing. "Just wait until you like girls," Ron said.

"I'll _never_ like girls," Hugo declared as Rose laughed.

"What did you do at school today?" Hermione asked Rose.

Hermione loved this part of every day. She could forget about the politics of work, the public relation nightmares that could be created by the simplest statements, and the number of people she needed to get back to. She could just enjoy Rose's excitement about projects and reading and writing. She could watch as Hugo tried to play the comedian, mimicking things he had heard through the day.

After everyone ate, Hermione assigned the two to go find stories to be read and stood side-by-side with Ron, cleaning dishes. She remembered a time they would have bantered and splashed water at each other, ending in Ron turning her in his arms and kissing her. Now they both stayed quiet, not wanting to break the tenuous peace by bringing up the wrong thing. Hermione kept thinking about one of those wrong things. Ron obviously didn't want to have to go back into work and Hermione had early morning meetings often enough that it didn't make sense for her to drop off the kids. She wanted to bring up something she knew wasn't going to go over well. So she waited for a better time.

They took turns reading stories, all four of them squeezed into the nook Ron and Arthur built for Rose's own little library, which she now shared with her brother. They would outgrow it, but Hermione loved that it was there. Rose picked out a muggle fairy tale book her parents had bought and Hugo insisted on Ron reading Rabbitty Babbitty in the silly voice he always did. Hugo laughed throughout and Hermione leaned back, closing her eyes.

"Time to tuck Mum in," Ron said and Hermione jolted awake.

"But where's her teddy bear?" Hugo asked.

"Daddy's Mum's teddy!" Rose declared.

"No way," Hugo said. "Daddy's not fluffy enough."

Hermione pushed herself up, taking a deep breath.

"Daddy's getting fluffy enough 'round the center," Ron said with a groan, struggling to get up himself, bent over in the kids' shortened space. "Now off to bed, one and all."

The kids both groaned, but Ron continued to prod until they headed out and into Rose's bedroom, Rose climbing into the bed as Ron ushered Hugo to the room across the hall. Hermione sat on the edge of Rose's bed, tucking her up in the blankets and leaning over to kiss her temple.

"Mum," Rose said quietly. "Why don't _you_ ever come to my school?"

"I graduated ages ago," Hermione teased.

"No, Mum," Rose said, entirely serious. "Why don't you ever come to get us like Dad? Do you not like my school?"

"No, sweetheart. I have a job."

"Dad does, too," Rose said.

Hermione swallowed. "I have a new job. But once I get settled, I will come and pick you up more, alright?"

"Alright," Rose said.

"And tomorrow I'll be going to meet your teacher," Hermione added.

"But it won't be the same."

"Why not?" Hermione asked, tilting her head.

"Because I won't be there," Rose said.

Hermione leaned forward, kissing her forehead again, lingering as she closed her eyes, feeling it again. Feeling the expectations placed on her from every angle and knowing she couldn't fail. Not at any of it.

"Next week, I won't be late," Hermione promised. She would clear an entire day, if it meant being to the school to pick them up on time.

* * *

Hermione had felt great about the speech she was allowed to give at the Magical Beings Equality Symposium held in Oxford until she looked at her watch when she was done. The entire board of education had been in attendance and she grew anxious as one of its older members came up to talk to her about her topic. She continued to try and bow out gracefully, but the old man would be cordial enough to "allow her to leave," then start it up again before she could actually escape.

After she pulled herself from that, there were three others trying to chat her up, each time Hermione knew she couldn't be too abrupt without ruining important contacts and relationships. She looked at her watch. 6:30.

"I'm sorry, I really must excuse myself," she said at last, though Irene Kelly was in the middle of sharing an experience of a werewolf friend she had when she was in school.

Hermione all but disillusioned herself to get passed everyone else and to an apparition point, making it to the empty park across from Rose's school. She pulled out a compact mirror, straightening her appearance and getting through the front doors at the school. One of the administrators was manning a desk at the front and gave Hermione an informational packet.

"You missed the school, but the one-on-ones are happening in the classrooms," he said.

"Thank you," Hermione said, looking at the map and trying to remember exactly where the class was on from the first day they dropped her off. She hurried down the hall, seeing a couple parents she remembered vaguely. One woman waved at her and she smiled, moving towards their queue.

"Ron is in there with Miss Ford now," the woman said.

"Thank you," Hermione replied, moving towards the door and trying to remember that woman's face. She would have to try and overhear someone say her name. Or maybe Ron would remember.

Through the window Hermione saw Ron and Miss Ford laughing. She paused a moment. She knew they had gotten a new teacher, but Hermione had not realized just how young she was. She was pretty, with dark chestnut hair, and a wide smile as she shook her head slightly at something Ron was saying, biting her bottom lip and leaning towards him. Hermione reached for the door handle, pulling it open. The two turned towards her.

"Sorry, I was caught up at work," Hermione said, hurrying forward, taking a chair next to Ron. He gave her a questioning look.

"That's quite alright," Miss Ford said, adjusting to be facing them equally. "Ron was just telling me about Rose playing teacher with her younger brother."

"The two do have fun with that," Hermione said with a humoring grin. "I'm sure you have other parents to get onto, though."

"Yes," Miss Ford said, straightening into a more professional demeanor. "I'll admit, I was stalling a bit there in hopes that you might still come. Rose is delightful to have in class. She is motivated, ambitious, and smart. She is one of my best students in almost every area."

Hermione could think of no higher praise, smiling wide and looking over at Ron, who was looking at Miss Ford, though his expression was more somber than it had seemed when Hermione was out of the room.

"She is a model student, however I am a little concerned about her in the more social aspects of the classroom setting."

Hermione's smile faded, leaning forward against the table between them and Miss Ford. "Concerned how?"

"Nothing irreparable," Miss Ford said quickly. "She just has a tendency to let what others say rile her up a bit. It's not atypical for children of divorce to feel a little—"

"We aren't divorced," Hermione interrupted. Miss Ford stopped, looking between the two, struck dumb for a moment. As an afterthought, Hermione reached over, taking Ron's hand. He looked just as confused.

"I'm sorry," Miss Ford said, forcing a grin. "Just… some things Rose mentioned… and, well it's my fault for assuming."

"What did Rose say?" Ron asked this time.

"Oh, nothing really," Miss Ford stammered, her cheeks going pink. "Honestly, I think the high divorce rate and what I've seen just made me jump to conclusions. I apologize, really."

Hermione swallowed, wondering what about them said divorce. Ron smiled easily at Miss Ford waving off the moment.

"It's alright," Ron said. "But back to Rose."

"Yes, Rose," Miss Ford said, regrouping as she cleared her throat. "Rose struggles with fitting in with the others in her class. Sometimes that happens when one child doesn't have something the others do."

"What doesn't Rose have?" Hermione asked.

"Well, I know the other students have thought it odd she doesn't have a cell phone," Ron said. Hermione wondered how this hadn't come up before.

"She's six," Hermione said. Ron shrugged.

"That and a telly or other electronics," Miss Ford said. "I'll clarify that I don't think it is a poor decision for parents to keep them from being influenced by such technology so young. It is probably the reason Rose is so intellectually acute, but she doesn't always react well when the others start in on her with that."

"How exactly does she react?" Ron asked.

Miss Ford hemmed and hawed for a little and Hermione thought she knew what was coming. "There have been accusations of her zapping them or making it so they couldn't speak. Children's imaginings, of course, but she does seem to be frustrated or angry and it isn't helping her build those friendships with her peers that are so vital at this age. Which is my main concern, of course."

Ron and Hermione exchanged a glance. They had talked to Rose about keeping her magic in check around the muggles. Ron hadn't needed to worry about it as a child, since most of their associates were wizarding families in their village, and Hermione only remembered on occasion summoning books on high shelves or making flowers come back from wilting when she was young. Since Rose was so much like her, Hermione hadn't worried that Rose would have any problems.

"What do you suggest?" Hermione asked.

"Playdates might be a good start," Miss Ford said. "Even if she had a couple good friends here that saw not everyone lives in the same types of houses with the same things, I think that would bolster her confidence when others pointed out those differences."

"Anything else?"

"We'll be working to encourage positive interactions on our end and keep you updated on how that develops as well," Miss Ford said. "And really, we love having Rose in our school and I enjoy your daughter immensely."

"Thank you," Ron said with a smile.

Miss Ford stood and they followed. She shook Ron's hand first, then enthusiastically shook Hermione's, walking them to the door, saying she hoped that she would get to teach Hugo in a couple years and bid them goodbye at the door.

Hermione walked by Ron in silence, holding his hand all the way out of the school, the person at the desk waving them goodbye as Hermione gave a tight, polite grin to them. They waited until they were down an empty road before they apparated together. Molly was helping Rose and Hugo make bread in the kitchen. Hermione was struck just how much Ron had been like his mother the other day. And she hadn't even noticed.

"Mum!" Hugo shouted, jumping right off the counter and precariously into her arms. Someday she wasn't going to be ready and drop him, she was afraid. Hugo pulled back and held on. "Grandma said we need to visit her house right away."

"Oh did she?" Hermione asked.

"Mmm-hmm, so she can give us lots of cake and candy and so Grandpa can tickle our ears and we can play with their new cat."

Molly smiled warmly and continued to knead. Rose had a notebook and was writing.

"Well she can have you," Ron said, ruffling his hair.

"Not forever, Dad," Hugo clarified.

"Mum, can Grandma read us a story tonight?" Rose asked.

"I think that's a question for her," Hermione said, setting down Hugo and grabbing one of the two plates of food Molly had left out for them. "Make sure she doesn't have to get home to Grandpa."

"Grandma?"

"Of course I will read you stories, love," Molly said. "Ron, can you finish this here?"

"Sure," he said.

The children went happily with Molly and she stayed until they were tucked into bed, staying to check in that Ron was doing alright and eating enough, saying he was looking rather peaky to her. Ron rolled his eyes and said he was fine. They filled her in on news and she suggested that anytime they wanted a night out, she would be happy to have Rose and Hugo, just as she normally did, then kissed Ron and Hermione each on the cheeks and headed off to bed.

Once Molly was gone, Hermione moved up the steps, going into Rose's room.

"Rosie," Hermione said, pushing back her hair. Rose's eyes eased open. She hadn't quite been asleep yet. "Rosie, I wanted to ask you something."

"What?" she asked, turning towards Hermione.

"Did you tell Miss Ford anything about Dad and me?"

"Like what?" Rose asked.

"Just anything," Hermione asked. "Any assignments or writing? About your family?"

Rose moved, sitting first, then standing on her bed, pointing to a paper she had pinned over by the window. There were several boxes with stick figure drawings in various colors and a few simple sentences.

"Tell me about it," Hermione asked.

"Miss Ford wanted us to write three things about our family," Rose said.

Hermione read through each of the sentences. One was that her brother hated broccoli. The second was that she loved when Grandma Granger brought her new books. The third was that Mum and Dad sometimes didn't want to be in the same place. Hermione looked at the drawing. There were two angry looking stick figures, one of them clearly by an open door.

"What is this drawing of, Rosie?" Hermione asked.

"It's Daddy going into the office," Rose said. Hermione couldn't look away from it. The deep semi-circle frowns staring up at her. "Mum, I'm tired."

"Alright, sweetheart," Hermione said. She kissed her cheek and Rose fell back to the bed, wiggling back into her pillow.

Hermione stood, seeing Ron at the door, an odd expression on his face. Neither of them said anything, Hermione bringing out the paper and Ron taking it, looking for himself as they both moved about their own business for the evening. Hermione was the first in bed, reading with the nightstand lamp when Ron went into the bathroom, changing and brushing his teeth, letting out a deep breath as he moved onto the bed, laying out.

Hermione looked at him, closing her book carefully and turning. She leaned against him with hands on his chest. Ron raised his eyebrows.

"We need to figure out how to talk to Rose about using her magic at school," Hermione said.

"You realize she doesn't use it on purpose, right?" Ron said.

"That's beside the point," Hermione said. "She's at school with muggles. She needs to be more careful."

"Or we could just put her into a wizarding primary school," Ron said.

"The academy has the best educational opportunities and—"

"Alright, I get it," Ron said, then sighed. "I'll probe her tomorrow, see who she gets along with best. Let's start with helping her make friends, then we can talk about the rest if that doesn't seem to help."

"Okay," Hermione said.

"I've been wanting to talk to you," Ron said, his right hand moving to her waist, stroking up and down her side. "I don't mind getting the kids, but I know Harry's getting flack for me leaving early so often."

"Ron, I am doing the best I can—"

"I know," Ron said, hushing her. "I know, Hermione, I just can't keep making it difficult on my department either. I know it isn't always easy. We could switch days, maybe, or do it on a week-by-week basis?"

Hermione pulled out of his touch, turning back and shaking her head. "You act so understanding, but then I suggest we get someone who can get them every day—"

"I've told you why I don't want that," Ron said, propping up on one elbow.

"We don't have a choice, Ron. Both of us have jobs that require us to be there when the kids get out of school."

"We can make it work," Ron said. "We both do enough overtime, I just need to be able to stay twice a week. Twice a week and the others will be off mine and Harry's backs."

Hermione took a deep breath. This was a pointless conversation. It would only go around and around. She nearly stood and went into the office, but then thought of Rose and her drawing. They needed to stop that. They needed to finish these things in a way that didn't affect Rose and Hugo.

"Alright," Hermione said. "I have Mondays and Fridays."

Hermione had to swallow a comment when Ron looked doubtful. She turned off the lamp and both laid down, falling to sleep.

That Sunday, Hermione's parents were hosting a big party for Hermione's Aunt and Uncle's fortieth anniversary. They dressed Rose and Hugo up and headed to the house after Ron finished a report in their home office. Hugo rode into the party on Ron's back and Hermione took Rose's hand in, reminding the both of them about good manners. There were several younger children there for the two to play with and they were both engrossed quickly as Hermione turned, reminding Ron who was who. There were far fewer gatherings of Hermione's extended family than happened with the Weasleys. Most of the people here, he had only met at their own wedding, and Hermione hardly expected he would remember everyone from that day.

"Hi, bug," Mr. Granger said, reaching out to give Hermione a kiss on the cheek. "How are you, Ron?"

"Good, I'm good," Ron said.

"Why don't you come on this way," Mr. Granger said. "I'll introduce you to my cousin Jim. He'll chew your ear off, but then you won't have to remember too many names for the evening."

"Only if I get a drink first," Ron said with a grin.

"I wouldn't leave you with Jim without one," Mr. Granger said.

Ron winked at Hermione and walked off with her dad. Hermione smiled as they moved through the crowds.

"There you are," Mrs. Granger said and Hermione turned, wrapping her arms around her mother's neck.

"It's so good to see you, Mum," Hermione said, holding on a little tighter. She hadn't even realized how much she had needed her mother recently until this moment.

"You alright?" Mrs. Granger asked. She pulled Hermione back, pushing back her hair a little.

"The last few weeks have been rough," Hermione said with a sigh.

Mrs. Granger grabbed two mimosas from trays, handing one to Hermione. "We'll talk in a bit, dear," she said. "Why don't you relax first? Make the rounds?"

Hermione moved around, kissing cheeks of cousins, aunts, and uncles. She mingled, stretching her neck every now and again to make sure her children were behaving themselves, but Rose seemed to have gathered a handful of younger children, making them follow the leader pretty well. And she, of course, was the leader.

When she had finished chatting with her great aunt, Berta, Mrs. Granger pulled Hermione into a corner, grabbing them each another drink.

"So what's happening?" she asked.

"I don't know, Mum," Hermione said with a sigh. "It's just… this new job… these _jobs_ … it's just a lot to adjust to. And then there's everything at home and… You know, I'm sure it will be fine. I'll be able to figure it out."

"You will," Mrs. Granger said with conviction. "But you can always talk to me, you know that right?"

"I know," Hermione said. She looked around, making sure there weren't unwanted ears around. "Ron and I just… it's causing a lot more tension."

Mrs. Granger nodded. "You know, your dad and I went through that."

"Really?"

"When you were very little," she said, taking a sip at the wine. "The thing no one tells you, is that if you want it all there are always, _always_ sacrifices. Everything you're doing is so noble, Hermione. And we couldn't be more proud of you. The balance…"

"Balance is hard," Hermione said. Her mother nodded in agreement.

"You probably don't remember this, but I stopped working until you were about… four."

Hermione straightened up. "No, I didn't know that."

"Yes, well, I kept saying I was going to go right back to work and keep everything up, but the second I had you in my arms… I knew it had to wait."

"You think I should stop working?" Hermione asked.

"No, dear, that's not at all what I meant," Mrs. Granger said. "Your father and I had a practice together. I knew I could go back whenever I was ready. Very different than what you're doing, but it's about choices. You choose day by day and just know what you're choosing. And you'll get there."

"Thanks, Mum," Hermione said, taking a shuddering breath.

"I need to go check on the food," Mrs. Granger said, nudging Hermione's chin with her fingers.

Hermione nodded and sat alone for a few moments, finishing her drink, the emerging from the corner, mingling once again. She stopped when she saw her cousin Judith. Judith was nearly a decade older than Hermione, but she remembered her fondly, as Judith had babysat her once or twice. They exchanged stories and happenings. Judith's daughter, Brittney, had just turned twenty and was in University in London.

"I can't believe that," Hermione said. "I swear, she was just a toddler, wasn't she?"

"Yours too," Judith said. "That little Hugo of yours is a real charmer."

"Thank you," Hermione said, looking around, not seeing them. She knew she should probably check on them soon. "Is Brittney here today?"

"No," Judith said. "She's been trying to find work, actually. She had some catering job, but she's hoping to find something more steady. So many jobs want such a time commitment, though. It's hard for her to do that with school."

"No don't!" Rose squealed across the way. Hermione looked over, seeing Ron with Rose in his arms, tickling her sides as she laughed, trying to pull away. He grabbed Hugo in his other arm before he could get away. Some of the youngest cousins were all joining in the fun, tackling Ron.

"How would Brittney feel about being a nanny?" Hermione asked.


	4. Row

**A/N:** I couldn't get this chapter out of my head. The next isn't as clear in my mind, so definitely don't anticipate another chapter tomorrow, but I hope you all enjoy a quick update! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far. I love getting these reactions. Also, whoever made the insinuation about Ron alone with a nanny... I wasn't going there but I totally laughed out loud at that logical progression. Consider me entertained!

 _ **Row**_

For once Ron was caught up. Completely caught up on all the paperwork and the filing, and he actually had time to look into some reports of pockets of land in the countryside that were being isolated by some charm. Possibly dark magic. Nothing inside could leave and others couldn't get in. So far, they had been able to break them down, though each was getting stronger and they hadn't figured out who was behind it.

"Have we checked with George to see if there isn't some new product he's testing?" Harry asked. "Or if he knows of anyone developing something of the like?"

"No, but I thought of that, too," Ron said. He liked when Harry came over to bounce ideas with him. It was like the old days, when they were partnered up. Then Harry had to go get himself promoted and he suddenly had meetings and briefings and a million other responsibilities that left Ron more or less to his own devices. Maybe if Neville were still here, but he had taken up the Herbology job before Harry had been made head of the department. "I could definitely see it being a prank, setting someone inside, but it is rather large for that, don't you think?"

"Just check," Harry said, scratching his head.

"You know what's going to happen when I do, right?" Ron said, standing and putting files into his briefcase to look at later. "If he hasn't been testing something like that, he's going to, and who do you think is going to be his guinea pig?"

Harry laughed, standing up. "Getting out of here early?"

"Just a bit," Ron said. "I'll go talk with George and I think I'm going to go pick up something from the Leaky Cauldron for dinner."

"Alright," Harry said. "See you tomorrow."

Ron left the Ministry, walking into Diagon Alley. He caught George just before he was about to leave the shop and, as expected, George's eyes lit up, even though the pockets were not his. "Why don't you come by this weekend and we can talk more about it," George said, turning and walking away from Ron.

"That wasn't a suggestion," Ron shouted after him. "George, that wasn't… see you Saturday."

Ron picked up meals for each of them, asking the bartender to package Hugo's in several smaller boxes, and grabbed one of the pumpkin pies Hermione liked so much. Even with all the little side trips, Ron was at the house ten minutes to five. He opened the front door, wiping his feet on the welcome mat, and backed into the entryway.

"I'm home!" he shouted out.

As he moved into the living room, Ron froze. There was a girl with short blue hair sitting with Rose and Hugo, coloring pages. She smiled at him uncertainly.

"Hi, Ron," she said.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?"

"I'm Britney. We met once at your wedding," she said as Hugo came over and tackled his leg. Rose was engrossed in whatever she was making. "Hermione's cousin. Well, actually she's my mum's cousin. So… second cousin? Or removed cousin? I don't exactly remember how that works."

"Is everything okay with Hermione?" Ron asked, setting the stack of boxes on one of the side tables. "Where is she at?"

Britney had just opened her mouth when the front door opened again, Hermione stepping through the door behind Ron. She stopped where she was.

"Mum!" Hugo shouted, running towards Hermione as Ron's jaw clenched and the last few weeks of not being called at the last minute to pick up the kids—not needing to shift schedules—came into focus.

"How was your day?" Hermione asked Hugo, holding him and pushing down his wild bush of hair.

"Good! I got a sticker," he said, showing her a star sticker on the back of his hand.

"You did! That's great," Hermione said. She gave a nervous glance sideways, then moved passed Ron, into the living room. "How were they?"

"Great!" Britney said. "As usual."

Hermione walked over, leaning down to kiss the top of Rose's head. Rose looked up at her with a smile, then went back to her page. Britney stood, grabbing a backpack and stuffing a couple large textbooks inside.

"Hugo's teacher said there's this picnic thing that parents are invited to this Friday at eleven, by the way," Britney said.

"Great, thank you," Hermione said.

"Do you mind if I get paid today?" Britney said.

Ron snatched up the boxes again, walking into the kitchen as Hermione lowered her voice, talking with Britney, likely paying her. Ron dropped the stack and pulled out plates, more clattering happening than he intended, not wanting to be with any of them right now. He had half a mind to go spend the rest of the evening with Harry and Ginny or heading back to work, but he wasn't going to do that to Rose and Hugo.

Ron heard Hermione playing with them in the other room. He put the pie in the refrigerator, taking out his wand. With a hard flick he summoned glasses. One broke from the force and Ron growled.

" _Reparo_ ," he said, fixing it and grabbing the three, setting them where Hermione, Rose, and he sat, grabbing a plastic cup for Hugo. "Dinner's ready," he said loudly.

Hermione ushered the other two in, avoiding Ron's gaze as he sat in his chair, leaning over the roast and vegetables on his plate, pushing it around with his fork.

"Ron, you should read the story Rose was working on," Hermione said quietly. "It's very good."

Ron swallowed before he looked up, smiling at Rose. She was holding out the pages she had been working on. There was a drawing on the top of each page, then words carefully written below. The story was about a wizard who went around helping the muggle police solve their mysteries. It was four or five sentences long.

"That's so good," Ron said, trying his best to sound happy and enthusiastic. "Best story I've read in ages."

Hugo filled the rest of dinner with continual chatter. Rose and Hugo got into an argument about whether they would get a family cat or an owl, as though either was in the works. Hermione ran interference. Ron was sure if he opened his mouth again, he wouldn't like what his kids would witness. He kept his jaw clenched, concentrating on the food and drink in front of him.

"I'm just going to take Rose and Hugo on a walk around the block," Hermione said as Rose went to the kitchen sink, turning on the water to wash her hands. Hugo pulled up the step stool to take his turn. "Alright?"

"Didn't know you needed to run things passed me anymore," Ron said under his breath.

Hermione pressed her lips together and gave his shoulder a squeeze before going to help Hugo, then moved to get jackets on both children. They walked out the front.

Ron left the dishes behind, walking into the office. He couldn't concentrate, not really. He shuffled around some of the work he had wanted to look through, unable to take it in, muttering questions meant for Hermione.

* * *

Hermione walked slowly as the other two skipped back and forth across the sidewalk, over the cracks and laughing as they tried to out jump each other. She had been good about getting home by 4:30 since getting in touch with Britney, having her watch Rose and Hugo twice from three to about five. Hermione paid her the full two hours, even though Hermione was home early each time. She went with Britney that first Monday, making sure Britney knew where to go and getting her name added on lists of approved adults to pick up the kids.

Hermione thought through the logic she needed to lay out for Ron once the kids were asleep. She had just wanted to show him that a nanny could be good. Show him that Rose and Hugo liked Britney. There had been little arguing since she had asked Britney to pick up the kids and the time Rose and Hugo were with her was minimal. They would hardly notice this.

She took a deep breath as she opened the door. Hugo ran in first, Rose following. Ron wasn't in the living room and she checked the kitchen. The dishes were all left where they were. He was in the office, though she didn't disturb him.

"Tuck the kids in, then deal with Ron," she muttered to herself.

Hermione let Rose and Hugo play a little longer, before ordering them to baths, reading a single story, and sending them to bed. She stalled a little longer, going into the kitchen and taking care of the cleaning. As she put Hugo's leftovers away, she saw the pumpkin pie. Once the dishes were cleaned, she pulled out a small plate, cutting a slice and taking a fork, heading towards the office. Carefully, she opened the door.

Ron was hunched over the desk, one hand with fingers laced into his hair, his red locks twisted and clumped in between. The way that side of his hair was mussed indicated he had been doing this for a while.

"I have some pie for you," Hermione said softly.

"No," Ron said shortly. "Thanks."

Hermione set aside the plate. "Ron, I think I need to explain—"

"Explain what?" Ron turned in the chair, his voice low. "How you went behind my back and hired a nanny even though you knew—you _knew_ —how I felt about it."

"You just needed to see that it's not as terrible a thing as you're making it out to be," Hermione said. "The kids really like Britney, Ron."

"I don't want to get into this with you right now," Ron said, standing and walking out of the office. Hermione turned, following on his heels.

"Yes, let's just put it off like we put every conversation off. Every petty little problem you don't want to just resolve," Hermione said. She saw the pile of finished laundry in the basket by their bedroom door. Hermione walked over, snatching it up. "Why don't you grow up, Ron? Actually have an adult conversation."

Hermione heard Ron stop behind her as she went into their room, pulling out the linens, folding towels and tossing them angrily into a pile. Ron walked in behind her a moment later, standing across the room as Hermione continued to fold.

"How did this become my fault?"

"If you had just been open to the possibility—"

"You mean, if I had just agreed with you full stop," Ron said. "That's always what it is, isn't it? If I don't agree with you, I'm just too stupid to understand."

"I didn't say that."

"But that's what it is. That's what the problem is every time," Ron said. "My feelings on the matter are nulled by your brilliant, superior mind."

"I never _said_ that!"

"You would be _furious_ if I had pulled this kind of bullshit," Ron said. "Going against my express wishes and hiring some nanny even though—"

"She is my cousin's daughter, not some stranger," Hermione cut him off, her face burning. "You're the one who said you needed a more steady schedule at work and I have said for _ages_ that we should hire someone who could pick the kids up and watch them until we get home."

"Oh, yes, that makes it alright," Ron said. "You know how I feel about it and you still went off and held interviews."

"People hire sitters all the time!"

"A nanny is not a sitter," Ron said, stepping up to the other side of the bed.

"A nanny is what we need, Ron, and I am fed up with you digging your heels in on the issue, then being angry when I can't leave work at three in the afternoon."

"You know what this really is about... you think you know best. Everything you decide is best for our children must be so," Ron snapped. "You just can't stand the idea that I could possibly be a competent parent too!"

Hermione stopped, the bedding falling with a crease across the bed. She ignored it, staring at Ron.

"What exactly have I decided for Hugo and Rose that didn't include you."

"The muggle school," Ron said.

"You agreed the academy would be best—"

"I didn't agree on anything, Hermione. I was fine with taking them to be with their own kind."

"' _Their own kind'_? Did you really just say that?" Hermione seethed, her hands balling into fists.

"That's not how I meant it, and you know it."

"Funny, sounded like the same pureblood bigotry I've heard my entire life."

"Rose hates it there," Ron said. "She feels like we're making her lie to the other students. They make fun of her because she doesn't have the same things they do."

"It's not a terrible thing for Rose to learn from!"

"She has no friends there, Hermione!" Ron said. "The only godsend is that Rose adores Miss Ford."

Hermione scoffed. "Oh yes, I'm sure Miss Ford is a _lovely_ influence on her."

"It's a bunch of rich kids who have been handed everything. But, you know, since I'm the one who has to see it everyday when I pick her up and she's asking me if she doesn't have a phone because we're poor—"

"Is that what this boils down to, Ron? You don't like someone thinking you're poor?"

Ron's face reddened and Hermione knew she had crossed a line. His eyes focused, but she stood her ground, raising her chin and waiting for his response.

"You let your cousin or her daughter or whoever know that after next week we don't need a nanny," Ron said.

"I won't," Hermione said. "And I don't appreciate the insinuation that it makes me a bad parent to want a little extra help."

"Hermione, I have let you make the decisions on their school and didn't take issue when you decided to take this position—"

"—decided? Well, how gracious of you to let me decide what jobs I can take—"

Ron raised his voice above hers. "—but I will _not_ let our work interrupt what's most important!"

Hermione leaned onto fists over the bed, narrowing her eyes at Ron. She knew she should walk out and go to the house office to work things off. She should put a hold on the nanny and wait until they were both had a decent amount of sleep and time to discuss this civilly. She knew, but she took a deep breath.

"Just because you're as high in the ministry as you're going to get, doesn't mean I should turn down my opportunities to make you feel better about yourself," Hermione seethed. He stood stock still, hands on his hips as his eyes softened in pain. She knew she should stop. She shouldn't say another word, but it felt better than it should to say something that he didn't have a response for. "Just because you're unhappy with your job doesn't mean I should give up mine to avoid hiring a nanny."

Ron let out a breath and wiped a hand down his face. Tears coated his eyes. Hermione waited for him to retort back. She waited for him to yell or curse or retaliate in any way. Instead he shook his head, turned on his heel and walked out the bedroom door, letting it swing freely on its hinges. Hermione waited a moment, then puffed herself up, ready to follow Ron and make him finish the conversation. She followed him into the living room, and opened her mouth to speak when she saw him begin to turn and he disapparated with a pop.

He had left and Hermione felt everything catch in the center of her chest—a ball of tension suffocating her. She stumbled back into their room, the bed half made as she curled up against the headboard in the center, rocking back and forth as she sobbed into her hands.

* * *

Hermione couldn't sleep. She cleaned and organized until she finally crashed. Two in the morning and Ron still hadn't returned. When her alarm went off at six she turned, hoping to see him beside her. He wasn't there. The other side of the bed was empty. Hermione swallowed back a sob and got up, running through her morning routine faster.

Most mornings Hermione would take a shower and get ready while Ron took his turn. Then she would wake Rose and Hugo, getting each of them dressed and their hair combed as Ron cooked breakfast. Thinking she would have to fit in dropping them off, she hurried through her own morning routine, being more abrupt in rousing the kids, throwing out quick outfits, telling them to get dressed and come downstairs.

Hermione pulled out eggs and milk putting bacon in the oven and toast into the toaster. Rose was dressed fine when she came downstairs, but Hugo's shirt was inside out and he had put his jeans over his pajama pants.

"I can't button these, Mum," he said.

She would have laughed if only she had the time. She cut a banana in half, placing one on each place and setting one in front of Rose and another where Hugo sat.

"I'll fix it in a minute," she said. "Eat right now."

"Where's Dad?" Rose asked.

Just as Hermione was looking for what to say, the kitchen door opened and Ron came in, wearing his clothes from the day before. He didn't say anything and wouldn't look at Hermione, but she let out a breath.

"Mum, the eggs are touching the bacon," Hugo whined.

"Just move it over," she said, her head was already aching.

"I can't eat it, Mum," Hugo said. "And the banana, too, Mum!"

Hugo started to push it away and Hermione was leaning in to fight him on it when Ron stepped forward, taking the half a banana and biting off a chunk at the end.

"Hey!" Hugo said.

"What, I thought you didn't want it?" Ron said.

"Just the part touching," Hugo said indignantly.

"So the eggs—"

"Just that part," Hugo said, pointing very specifically portion. "Not one bite more, mister!"

Rose laughed, eating her own food as Ron ate the little bits of the food touching one another and Hugo seemed satisfied, digging into his breakfast enthusiastically. Hermione turned back to the kitchen, feeling her cheeks warm.

"I only made enough for the kids," she said quietly. "Sorry."

"I'll get something on the way to work," Ron said, his voice tight and terse. He still hadn't looked at her and Hermione just wished he would yell. He turned his attention to Hugo, fixing his clothing between Hugo eating. "Be ready soon, Rosie. We have to get going."

Ron left the kitchen, heading towards their room. Hermione rushed to drop the pans into the sink, turning off the oven.

"Rose, I need you to help your brother get his backpack, okay?" Hermione said, not looking back as she rushed to follow Ron.

He was bent over the bathroom sink, bare chested as he washed his face, shaving quickly. He didn't acknowledge her presence as Hermione moved closer.

"Where were you?" Hermione asked, her voice shaky.

"George and Angelina let me sleep in their guest bed," Ron said, still concentrating on his own reflection. "He said he had to clear out a bit of storage, but I can stay in the flat above the shop."

Hermione felt her breath catch. "You don't mean that," she said, tears filling her eyes. "Ron, you can't—"

"No, what I can't do is this fighting anymore," Ron said, his eyes finally piercing hers, still full of hurt and anger. "I can't spend every night walking on eggshells and wondering what my wife really thinks of me."

They both stood still, not breaking contact until Ron turned back, taking the razor to the top of his stubble, moving down in an even line.

"I didn't mean it," Hermione said. "It had just—"

"—been a long day," Ron said.

"Well it had," Hermione said.

"It's been a long several months, Hermione," Ron said.

"Dad, we're ready!" Rose called out from the other room.

Hermione looked towards the door, fear and guilt waving through her gut. She looked back. "Ron, I didn't mean it."

"You did on some level, or you wouldn't have had it loaded up," Ron said. He turned off the water and took a face towel, wiping away the excess cream. He reached in the closet for clothes. "All I am to you is a failure."

"That's not true," Hermione said, tears spilling over. "Ron, please… _please…_ "

He shook his head, pulling a fresh shirt over his head and grabbing work robes to put on when he got there. Hermione caught him around the waist as he passed, stopping him.

"What are we going to tell Rose and Hugo?" Hermione said softly, biting her bottom lip.

"We tell them the truth," Ron said.

"Ron—"

"'I'll come by to take them in the mornings still, if that's what you're worried about. And I'll just plan on picking them up and going back into work whenever you get off from now on."

"Ron, please…"

"Daddy! I'm going to be late!"

Hermione reached up desperately, framing his face in her hands. "Please, let's just talk," Hermione said, her eyes shifting between his. "Don't do anything until we talk? I'll take a long lunch."

Ron took a deep breath and looked away. "Fine," he said, grudgingly.

Hermione moved to her tiptoes, leaning in, but Ron gently removed her hands and sidestepped her, walking out into the living room.

"Alright, munchkins, let's move out," he said.

* * *

"Ron," Harry said, walking into his cubicle. "Where were you?"

"What do you mean?" Ron asked, brows knit.

"Department meeting," Harry said. "You missed it."

"Oh, er… I forgot," Ron said.

"Is everything okay?" Harry asked, leaning in and lowering his voice. "Dager said you got in late, which isn't like you, and you've been wandering around here like a zombie."

"Is that supposed to be a joke? You know I have an inferi case, right?" Ron said. His voice had less of a jovial quality than what he was trying to go for.

The night before, he hadn't even known where he was apparating until he was on George's doorstep. He could have easily splinched himself, had his mind been conflicted. He stood on the stoop for a moment, mulling over whether George was really the best person in that moment, but before he could change his mind, the door flew open and George stood above him, the somber expression George rarely wore masking any of the jokester beneath.

Ever since the war, none of them were quite right when reacting to sudden appearances.

"What's wrong?" George asked. "An attack?"

"Nothing like that," Ron said. "I… I-I don't think I can really talk about it."

George relaxed, ushering Ron in. Angelina was waiting, looking equally concerned. George shook his head and her body loosened as she went to get tea. George sat with Ron for half an hour before Ron gave him a basic overview.

"Well you can stay here for the night while you cool off," George suggested.

"I think this is going to need more than a night," Ron said. George looked stunned and Ron felt the need to flee again. But who would he go to? His parents? They wouldn't get it. Harry and Ginny had never been through the same things as him and Hermione. If he went to Bill, it would just be a repeat of when he was eighteen with Harry and Hermione in the forest. Even George didn't seem to struggle with his marriage, but he at least had listened.

"Ron, that's a big decision," George said.

"George, after all these years she doesn't think I'm good enough for her," Ron said, choking on the words. "Let's face it, she's right."

"She doesn't think that at all. And what about the kids and…"

George went on, but it didn't register as Ron just kept shaking his head back and forth, unable to get her words out of his head. Not that he hadn't thought the same thing, but her voice attached to them meant so much more. Eventually George gave up, making up the guest bed for him and promising that if he still wanted a place after sleeping on it, he would help Ron get settled in the flat above the shop on Diagon Alley.

Now Harry sat in the chair next to Ron's desk, leaning with elbows on his knees and a probing look, waiting to see if Ron was going to share. But they weren't fifteen anymore and Harry wasn't their mediator. The last thing Ron wanted was for this to get around to his family on a larger scale. He had already made George promise not to say anything just yet.

"I can tell something's up, so why don't you just spill?" Harry asked.

Ron turned and Hermione was now leaning against the opening to his sad excuse for an office. Ron leaned back and Harry turned.

"Hey there, Hermione," Harry said. "What are you doing down this way?"

"I just wanted to take Ron out to lunch, actually," Hermione said, her voice more high pitched and strained than natural. She forced a small smile. "If you don't need him, that is."

"He's all yours," Harry said with a sigh. "Come see me when you get back, though. There were a couple more of those barrier spots cropping up in Birmingham."

"Sure thing," Ron said, straightening some papers. Hermione watched him intently. He could practically feel her eyes on him as he stood, digging his hands in his pockets. "Where would you like to go for lunch?"

"There's that new deli around the corner," Hermione suggested.

"Alright," Ron said shortly, nodding to let Hermione lead the way.

They walked in silence, up and out of the Ministry, onto the street, and down the way. Hermione ordered first, Ron following up. Hermione started getting out money, but Ron had it paid for before she could even open her wallet.

"Thank you," Hermione muttered awkwardly.

Ron gave her a curt nod and they waited for their orders before sitting. Neither of them touched their sandwiches.

"I didn't mean what I said last night," Hermione said quietly. Her eyes were already wet and bloodshot.

"Yes, you did," Ron replied, calmly, trying not to let the emotion rise in him with her sitting across from him like this. "Look, I realize this is as far as I'll get at work. Unless I wanted to stab my best friend in the back, there's nowhere else for me in the Auror department and I don't really feel like doing anything else there. I'm not stupid. I've known it for a long time. And I don't care, but I never thought you did."

"I don't," Hermione said quickly, wiping the outside corner of one eye. "Really, Ron, I was just upset."

"You've been upset a lot lately," Ron said. She pressed her lips together. "I've been upset my fair share, too, but it's not right putting Hugo and Rose through that, is it? I mean, at least if we have our own space—"

"Don't talk like that, please."

"Hermione," Ron said, trying to be gentle. She started shaking her head before he even began. "I'm talking with George. I'll get some things and move into the flat in the next few days. Yes, I am. I just need some time."

Hermione buried her face in her hands, tears flowing steadily now. Ron sat back, feeling gutted and miserable and determined all in one. He reached out, running his fingers up and down her forearm until she came back out, wiping tears.

"And you're going to file for divorce?" she asked, sniffling.

Ron hadn't thought yet about that fully. The word twisted his stomach into knots. He shrugged. "If that's what you want."

"I don't want any of this," she said.

"Maybe you should have thought about that before hiring a nanny without us being in agreement on that," Ron said. She held his gaze for several moments. Seeing her now, he couldn't ever imagine being without her. Her hand was in his now and they were both gripping tightly, as though this was the last connection that could be severed.

"We needed a nan—"

Ron huffed before she finished, letting go and folding his arms across his chest. "This is just going to go around in circles."

Ron moved to stand and Hermione grabbed his hand in both of hers.

"Let's go to therapy," Hermione said. She let go, scrambling in her pockets. "I was looking up marriage and family counselors with good reputations around here. I… I have a list."

She handed the list of names and addresses to Ron. He sighed, reading down.

"These are all muggle addresses."

"They're all muggle counselors, yes," Hermione said.

Ron looked at her. "Why not a wizard or witch?" Hermione shifted uncomfortably where she at. Ron growled. "You're worried someone might find out about it."

"Ron, my job is already so public and if someone like Rita Skeeter got ahold of that information... who knows how they'll bring Rose and—"

"And how do you think that's going to go over in the meantime?" Ron said. "How are we supposed to talk about work or where we met or any number of things openly if we're trying to be covert about what we call them?"

"Alright," Hermione said. "I can find wizarding therapists, but will you go with me? I want to fix things. I want to fix us."

Ron leaned back in his seat, rubbing at his neck. "Yeah," he said shortly. "Of course."

Hermione let out a breath. "And you'll stay?"

Ron shook his head solemnly. Hermione pressed her lips together.

"I understand," she said, her voice cracking. She hadn't touched a bite, but wrapped up the sandwich. "I'll figure out what to tell Rose and Hugo."

"We both will," Ron said with a nod, staying where he was. "We'll do it together tonight when you get home, if you want."

Hermione stood and Ron simply watched her leave, giving one last look at him on her way to the door. Before she opened it, Hermione wiped at her eyes, cleared her throat, and straightened herself, walking out with the professional demeanor and decorum expected of her. The type of decorum no one had expected from Ron. Mostly because no one noticed him.


	5. Date Night

_**Date Night**_

Hermione's arms were wrapped around her middle, standing next to Ron as they watched Rose conducting Hugo in the construction of a snowman in the backyard. She hadn't been productive that afternoon, bursting into tears whenever there wasn't someone at her office. Luckily there hadn't been any meetings to attend and the only person she saw all day was her assistant. She had sent Jodi a message, postponing their discussion for a few days, knowing it would be ineffective in that moment.

"We could just tell them you're going to help George for a while," Hermione said.

"You want to lie to them?" Ron asked, looking at her, brows knit.

"No, I want you to stay," she said. He shook his head looking towards the window again.

When she walked in earlier, Ron playing with their children, Hermione thought for a moment maybe he had changed his mind. Maybe she could keep him here to work things out. It became apparent that wasn't the case when she went into their bedroom and there was a duffle packed next to the bed.

"We aren't going to get things figured out stepping on each other's toes here," Ron said.

Hermione stifled a sob. Ron reached out, rubbing her back.

"Hey, this could be good," Ron said. "We just… we need time, don't you think?"

"Do you know the statistics on separated couples reconciling?"

"No, but it doesn't surprise me you would," Ron said with a shrug.

"Eighty-seven percent end up divorced," Hermione said. Ron's hand was still on her shoulder and she watched Rose take off her hat and stick it atop their very small, misshapen snowman. "The majority of marriages fail at that point."

"Well, thirteen percent figure things out then," Ron said. Hermione rubbed her lips together. "And I don't think you've ever been in the average population of any statistic."

It was the closest thing to hope Ron had given her. When he said something like that, she could believe Ron really did want to work things out. With some therapy, they could get there. Maybe. Hopefully. Hermione didn't know what she would do if it didn't work. She didn't know how she was going to get through talking to Rose and Hugo about this. Hermione had a feeling Hugo wouldn't really understand at his age. He might be upset if the rest of them seemed upset, but otherwise would be processing the situation as it unfolded. Rose, though… besides being a terribly observant child, she would be more likely to have classmates with divorced parents or mums and dads on second marriages.

"Let's have dinner and then we'll talk to them," Ron suggested. Hermione nodded.

Rose and Hugo played for another ten minutes before Ron called them in. Hermione had ordered pizza and they decided to have dinner in the living room, all sitting around the coffee table on the floor. They had done this once when Rose was a few years younger and every now and again, Rose would ask if they could eat in this way. It was the fun thing their family did. It had seemed a good way to ease into the conversation they would have, then Hermione realized halfway through that they might just taint it instead.

"Miss Ford read us a book where you pick what happens and it changes the story," Rose went on in between bites of pizza.

"Like magic?" Hugo asked.

"Not like magic," Rose said, rolling her eyes. "It's a _muggle_ book, Hugo."

"Muggle books can have magic," he said.

"No they can't."

"Uh-huh," Hugo said. " _My_ class read a story about magic."

"That doesn't mean the book is magic. Right Mum?" Rose said. "No magic is allowed around the muggles, right?"

"Right," Hermione said. Normally she would have taken the opportunity to ask Hugo about what books he read about magic. And use the teaching moment to expound on Rose's understanding of what was and wasn't allowed to be done in front of the muggles. She needed those conversations, as they were still trying to help her control the magic she had.

Ron cleaned up the paper towels and put the extra into the kitchen, wiping his hands on his jeans as he came in, taking a deep breath. "Rose, Hugo, we need to have a family chat."

Rose and Hugo exchanged a look as though trying to figure out what they had done that they were about to get in trouble with. Ron reached down picking up Hugo and settling him on his lap in the large armchair. Hermione moved over to sit closer to Rose, playing with her hair.

"I'm going to be… leaving for a bit," Ron said.

"Like on holiday?" Rose asked.

"No, not on holiday," Ron said, looking at Hermione. She took a deep breath.

"Daddy is going to stay in his own flat," Hermione said. It was like ripping off a bandaid, except it wasn't. Because Rose looked at her blankly, the information visibly processing.

"I'll be by every morning and I will still pick you up from school," Ron added. "Every day. And I'll be connected by floo, not so far away. Or you could use your mum's phone to call. You like using the phone, right Rose?"

"What about us?" Rose asked.

"We're still going to live here, sweetheart," Hermione said. Rose's eyes were wetting and Hermione rubbed her back.

"I want to go with Daddy," Rose cried.

"Rosie, the flat is going to be small and you won't have any of your toys there," Ron said. "You'll be happier here."

"No!" Rose shouted, standing. "No, I want to go with you."

Hermione reached for her hand. "Rose, let's just—"

"No! It's not fair!" Rose yanked her hand from Hermione's and ran to the stairs and up to her room. The lights in the house flickered with the slam of her door and Hugo tucked himself into Ron's body. He didn't say anything, but looked upset and confused.

"I'll go talk to her," Ron said. He stood, handing Hugo over.

Hugo easily transferred to Hermione, wrapping his arms around her neck. "Daddy won't read Rabbity Babbity anymore, will he?" he observed.

"Oh no, love," Hermione said, pushing him back, placing a hand on his cheek. "Daddy will read it to you whenever you want."

"Promise?" Hugo asked.

"Yes, I promise," Hermione said.

"Can we visit Daddy?" Hugo asked.

"When he's ready for that, I think so," Hermione nodded.

"Will he ever live here again?"

Hermione didn't say anything for a few minutes. She swallowed. Honesty, Ron had said. He wanted to tell them the truth.

"I hope so," Hermione said.

"Can he read Rabbity Babbity to me tonight?"

"Sure. Why don't you go change into your pajamas first? I'm going to check on your sister."

Hugo stood and moved towards the steps. Hermione followed, continuing down the hall when Hugo went towards his room. She heard Rose crying before she got to the doorway. She looked in. Rose was laying on her stomach on the floor, her face pressed against folded arms. Ron faced her, mirroring her stance, though he reached over, tickling her back. Hermione saw Rose's child sized suitcase on her bed, random bits of clothing and books sticking out at various angles.

"But why can't I go with you?"

"Your mum needs you here, Rosie," Ron said. "Hugo needs you here."

"Well I need _you_ here," she countered.

Hermione wiped tears from the corner of her eye. She knew this wasn't going to be a singular discussion. Especially with Rose. Maybe over the next week she would see that Ron was still around in the mornings and afternoons and that would ease this, but Rose had always been a daddy's girl. It was bound to make this harder on her.

"I will come be with you whenever you need," Ron said. "And once I get the flat put to rights, you can come stay some nights. Alright?"

"Where is it?"

"It's over Uncle George's shop," Ron said.

"So we could get Fizzing Whizbees there?"

"Sure," Ron said with a smile. "And so many fake wands."

Rose laughed through her tears. She sniffed. "Are you leaving because Mum is mad at you?"

"No, sweetheart. Grown ups just have to figure things out this way sometimes."

"Melanie's parents don't live together," Rose said.

"Who's Melanie?"

"My friend," Rose said. "She said they always fight."

"Well, your mum and me are trying to not fight. And even if we do, it has nothing to do with you. You know that, right?"

Rose shrugged.

Ron cupped her chin in his hand, guiding her face to look up at him. "You, my clever, beautiful girl, are loved beyond belief. Your mum loves you and I love you."

Rose narrowed her eyes a little. "Do you love Mum?"

"I do." Ron turned and stopped, seeing Hermione still standing there. He continued to look at her. "I love her a lot."

* * *

Ron had a map out on his work desk, pointing at it with his wand to create little pins where the reported barriers were found. He spent the Saturday before with George. They cleared the flat, taking box after box down to the basement storage and dusted, all the while George probing about exactly what these barriers were like. He threw back his own ideas of what charms and jinxes might be combined to get the described effect. Ron kept a paper in his back pocket, jotting down notes to look into it.

George hadn't given up on trying it himself, of course, which meant that Ron was more likely than not to be stuck inside some magical cage one of these days. When he brought up rent, George waved him off, saying he would call it good and consider it an exchange for Ron's consultation.

Ron sat back, scratching his head trying to make sense of the placements. They started off very rural—almost unnoticed based on how far away they were. They were slowly containing larger and larger areas. There was one in Nuneaton that had trapped twenty-five muggles, requiring a team to modify memories as well as to break down the barrier.

"What the hell, Ron?"

It took Ron a full moment to shake himself out of his thought process to turn, seeing Harry standing at the cubicle, a strange expression on his face. Disbelief and irritation and something like curiosity.

"I put the report on your desk," Ron said, pointing in the general direction of Harry's office. "Sorry, I know you wanted it yesterday afternoon."

"Why did I have to hear from Ginny that you left Hermione?" Harry asked.

Ron looked around, checking for wandering eyes. Harry had hissed it low enough to not draw attention, but it wasn't something Ron wanted to deal with on a larger scale just yet. He didn't want questions. And as much as he was irritated by Hermione's paranoia that others would find out, he didn't want her to face that either.

Ron grabbed Harry by the elbow, leading him into his own office. He shut it behind them.

"I didn't leave her," Ron muttered. "Not exactly."

"What does that mean?" Harry asked, staying close to Ron, even though they had the privacy of the office. "Ron, if you tell me that you're seeing someone el—"

"Merlin's pants, Harry," Ron snapped. "I'm not seeing anyone, alright? Things just… haven't been going… Look, it's really not something I want to talk about. How did Ginny find out anyway?"

"Rose was telling Albus that you didn't live with them," Harry said. "Ginny overheard and started asking questions."

"When were they with you?"

"Hermione brought them around for a last minute picnic Saturday at your parents' house," Harry said.

Saturday. When Ron and George had been fixing up the flat.

"I'm just taking a beat," Ron said. "And I really don't want to get everyone involved, if you think you can keep it just between us for now."

"Who else knows?" Harry asked, calming down and leaning back against his desk.

"George and Angelina," Ron said. "I'm staying above the shop."

"You don't think it will get around then?"

"He said he won't say anything until I'm ready," Ron replied. "Not that it can stay under wraps too long."

Harry scratched at the side of his head with a sigh. "Well, I hope you know you can talk to me. At least keep me in the loop a bit, right?"

"Yeah, I can do that," Ron said.

"Do you want to talk about what happened exactly?"

Ron thought about what that conversation would be like for a moment. He would have to tell Harry about what Hermione said, which would bring up all sorts of old issues. Old issues Ron had settled in his mind ages ago. Harry probably had as well. It wasn't fair to drag him into the realization that they were back in the same place as they were as teenagers: Hermione as the top of the class, Harry in the limelight, and Ron just there. No, that wasn't Harry's fault. And he didn't want to admit that it needled him. Not at all.

"No, I don't think so," Ron said.

"Whenever you do…"

"Yeah," Ron replied. "I will."

* * *

Hermione and Ron sat side by side in the lobby of Mark Yarbrough's office, not speaking. Ron noticed Hermione's knees bouncing as she rubbed her lips back and forth against one another. Both were habits like those she exhibited before tests when they were younger.

"Did I tell you I set up a playdate for Rose and her friend Melanie?" Ron asked.

Hermione turned to him, shaking her head. The bouncing stopped at least.

"Thursday afternoon," Ron said. "Right after I get them, we'll go to the park with Melanie and her mum."

"Does Melanie have a sibling Hugo's age?"

"No, but I thought I'd ask Ginny if I can pick up Lily and have her join us," Ron said.

"That would be nice. At least he won't interrupt them."

They looked at each other, neither with anything else to say right then while both wished they did.

"Ron and Hermione?" the receptionist called.

Hermione looked around, tucking her hair behind her ears as she stood and lead the way. The receptionist pointed towards the office door and they entered.

Yarbrough sat back in the chair behind a large desk, glasses on and chewing on the end of a pen. He was maybe ten to fifteen years older than they were and looked up with a smile.

"Mrs. Granger, Mr. Weasley," he said, standing and reaching a hand out to each. "Have a seat, please."

He waved his wand and two chairs appeared. They sat near each other. Hermione leaned towards Ron, sending him an apprehensive glance. She reached over, taking his hand. Ron didn't move away.

"It is nice to meet you," Yarbrough said. "So, why don't you tell me why you're here today."

"Well, we…" Hermione trailed off looking at Ron. She tensed up and licked her lips. "We are… well…"

"You are a marriage counselor right?" Ron took over for her. "You don't moonlight as like, a hit man?"

Yarbrough laughed as Hermione shot Ron a look. "Yes, I do specialize in that. I just want to get an idea of where you feel you're at."

"Well, we've been married for just about a decade," Hermione began to summarize. "And we're just wanting to… get at the root of some things. Maybe head off some issues."

Ron bit the inside of his cheek. Head off issues. They were so far from heading off issues that it was hard not to say something sarcastic.

"I see," Yarbrough said, looking between them with a warm smile. "And how did you two meet?"

"We were… I mean… how much do you know about us in general?" Hermione asked, and Ron realized the heart of her anxiety: how much was this man judging her for needing to come to him. How much he would have the power to out them.

"I think my son has your Chocolate Frog cards, if that's what you mean," he said, unconcerned. "I believe most people know your role in the war, but I haven't been stalking you. Not yet at least."

Hermione gave a humoring grin, though it was fleeting. "We met at Hogwarts," Hermione said. "We were friends for a long time before dating or anything like that."

"Same year, then, yes?"

Ron was sure he knew this, but Hermione seemed to ease at the innocuous questions. "Yes," Ron said.

"And do you have any children?"

"Two," Hermione said, getting her grounding. "A girl and boy. Rose is six and Hugo is four."

Yarbrough took notes, nodding. He set down his notebook leaning forward. "I like to get permission before doing this, but I have a record keeping quill to take notes so we can just chat, if that's alright."

"Like a quick quotes quill?" Hermione asked, stiffening again.

"Sort of," Yarbrough said. "Only those are programed to reword. This will just take down major points for me to refer back to."

"Sure," Hermione said. Ron nodded his consent as well and Yarbrough set it all aside, letting it start before turning back to them.

"So, where are you at in your relationship now? How would you describe it?"

Hermione looked at Ron, the wheels turning behind her eyes. She didn't want to say it out loud. Ron knew it would be up to him if it was going to come out at all.

"We're currently separated," Ron said.

"And how long has it been that way."

"Just since last week," Hermione replied, not making eye contact with Yarbrough. "That's why we're here."

"What about before that?" Yarbrough said. "How was the marriage up to that point?"

"Mostly fine," Ron said. "We've always had our own opinions, but mostly it was okay."

"When did it stop being mostly okay?"

Ron didn't know how to answer that. It happened so slowly. They had always fought at least a little. It wasn't like the petty arguments trying to one up each other at school. It was generally something they disagreed on and Hermione usually won out in the end. Most of the time, Ron didn't care much, but they had piled up. One little stone at a time until it seemed like they were facing each other with a wall in between them.

Hermione explained a version of this that sounded nicer—more clinical—than how Ron saw it, but he sat beside her, nodding slowly in agreement. It was mostly there. Most of the issues. Most of the problems. They were colored with her own view. "We have different viewpoints on whether or not a nanny would be helpful," she said. She mentioned the fight that lead to Ron moving out, though she glossed over the points that were actually hit. Ron wasn't sure whether he was more angry that she wouldn't own up to it in its entirety or grateful not to hear the words again. They were just starting to fade, even if their effect and meaning were still strong in his mind.

"How do you feel the intimacy in your relationship is," Yarbrough asked.

Hermione looked over at Ron, nodding before she started to talk. "Good," Hermione said.

At this Ron couldn't contain the scoff that he had held in at everything else. Hermione looked at him incredulously.

"Did you have a different perspective on that?" Yarbrough asked.

"Yeah," Ron said. "It's non-existent."

Hermione dropped his hand, turning away and folding her arms as she sat back in the chair.

"What? You're going to pretend that everything is hunky-dory and we're just here for a tune-up?" Ron demanded.

"How often would you say you're physically intimate?"

"At least once a week… or every two weeks," Hermione replied.

Ron leaned back, wagging his head and biting the insides of his cheeks.

"Ron?"

"It's not a regular occurrence, I can tell you that," he said.

"Can you remember the last time?" Yarbrough asked.

"Last month," Hermione answered a little too quickly.

"Five months ago," Ron corrected. He looked over at Hermione. Her eyes were wide, her jaw clenched, her cheeks pinkening.

"Not it wasn't," Hermione said. "My birthday—"

"We kissed a bit, then you wanted to go to bed," Ron replied. "Side by side, not touching."

"Well, our anniversary then," Hermione countered.

"Which was five months ago," Ron said.

Hermione pressed her lips together, looking away from him. Her cheeks were fully blushed and Ron felt bad for a moment. But it was the truth.

"Obviously that part of a marriage is very important," Yarbrough said. "Although I want to be clear, there are more ways to be intimate than just having sex. It's really about there being a connection between you that's outside of the other aspects of your family and responsibilities—kids, work, household concerns... If you can communicate well in that way, it can translate to other areas where communication has broken down. More often than not, what someone is saying isn't the heart of the issue, it's however it makes them feel or what they take away as the meaning that problems enter. Understanding your partner is central to understanding what's behind harsh words or actions you don't initially get."

Hermione had shaken off the embarrassment, nodding enthusiastically at what Yarbrough was saying. He asked a few more questions, Hermione being more honest about it, though she was still reserved.

"What I really want to know is where each of you are at in terms of where you are hoping this will go," Yarbrough said. "I end up with a lot of people in my office who are just on their way to divorce and I can be of more use to them by helping them navigate that in an amicable manner. The direction I take is entirely up to the two of you."

Hermione looked at Ron, waiting on tenterhooks. Ron sighed.

"I think I speak for both of us when I say we want to fix this," Ron said.

Hermione's eyes filled with tears. She dabbed at the corners as she nodded in agreement. Yarbrough flicked his wand, a box of tissues levitating in front of Hermione.

"Thank you," she squeaked out, taking one.

"When there are two willing people, it's definitely possible. This is a process, of course," Yarbrough stood, reaching along his bookcases, pulling out several titles. "I have a couple things for you to read, which may help."

Yarbrough turned back with the few books, walking over and handing them to Hermione. Her eyes darted across the writing on the covers, taking it in. Ron knew she would trust him for the very fact that he was starting them on books.

"For now, make time for just the two of you," Yarbrough said. "I know you are balancing out all of these changes with children as well, but just the two of you where you can. Date nights or planning meetings with specific goals. Times for you to talk and reconnect."

Ron nodded, taking a deep breath. He had already begun doing split shifts to get in more hours, but he would make time if this has potential to work. If he could have the marriage he wanted with Hermione, he would give anything.

With a couple more reading suggestions, Yarbrough took them out front, asking his receptionist to schedule them for another appointment in two weeks and Ron and Hermione began their walk back to the Ministry.

"Did you want to take one of these?" Hermione asked, holding out the three books.

 _What Your Partner Means_ stuck out to Ron. He reached out, taking that one and Hermione stuffed the other two into her purse.

"I'll read those others and then we can switch."

Ron didn't say anything as they went into the telephone booth entrance to the Ministry. Hermione closed the door and entered the code. The two stood in silence as it shifted and moved downward.

"Should we go out this weekend?" Ron asked.

"I think that would be nice," Hermione said, looking up at him.

Ron snaked his hand down, taking Hermione in his. She gripped tightly, pulling it up and pressing her lips to the back of his hand. He liked how it felt, but in the back of his mind the reasons for their meeting today rung as heavy reminders that this wasn't all there was. The nasty thought that if he hadn't moved out she wouldn't have given even this small show of affection came to mind.

When they made it to the main hall, Ron opened the door, letting Hermione out and following close behind. They were nearly to the lift when an older man came up to Hermione.

"Can I have a minute of your time, Mrs. Granger," he said.

Hermione looked up at Ron. "Later?" she said.

"Yeah," he tried smiling at her, still thinking the nasty little thought. Hermione didn't give any indication that he was anything more than his last meeting as she turned back to the man, starting up a discussion.

* * *

"Thank you, so much," Hermione said, setting Hugo down, watching him tackle Lily. Rose went to join Albus and James, who were sitting across from one another at the chess set Ron bought Albus for his last birthday.

"Hey! You're cheating!" James shouted, slumping over.

Rose and Albus had both been enthralled when Ron started teaching them the game and became instant chess partners. Ron never went easy on either of them and was excited to get them sets to practice with. James, however, had momentary interest, then went off into his own little world. Albus looked pleased at having outdone his brother at something.

"Mum, Al is cheating," James whined.

"Then get smarter about catching him," Ginny replied, not looking his way. She guided Hermione to the space between the living room and the kitchen. She looked at the kids, making sure they had gone back to their own activities. "How are you holding up?"

Hermione had only talked briefly to Ginny after Hugo spilled the beans. Ginny hadn't really talked to either of them, if Ron was being honest about it, and Hermione wasn't sure what the rest of the family thought about the situation. Or if they even knew about it.

"I'm… holding up," Hermione said.

Ginny nodded like she understood, but how could she? Hermione was certainly glad to have her as a sounding board, but she felt alone in the whole ordeal. She wanted to talk to her mum, but she was holding off. Holding tight to the naive hope that Ron would change his mind. Every day she went home and Ron was playing with the kids, laughing and happy. He would be as happy with her as he was with them, but when she would ask if he was staying for dinner, he generally bowed out. And that would be when Hermione realized he was being pleasant to her for the kids' sake. And she would suddenly miss him, even as he sat ten feet from her.

But tonight, they were going out. Dinner and time together. They had switched books on Tuesday. Ron finished the one he had taken and she dug through her purse, giving him the other two. Their next appointment was that Wednesday and she hoped they would have something to report.

"Well, you two just enjoy yourselves."

"I can come get them tonight," Hermione said. "It might be late."

"Why don't you just let them sleep over," Ginny suggested. "We'll let them camp out here."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," Ginny said. "Now get out of here. … wait!"

Hermione stopped and turned back. Ginny grabbed and pulled down on Hermione's dress, squeezing her breasts in and up. Hermione rolled her eyes as Ginny finished her adjustments.

"Now go seduce my brother," Ginny said with a sly grin.

"You are the weirdest," Hermione laughed, putting her jacket back on. Ginny's grin grew.

With a final kiss each for Hugo and Rose, she headed out, apparating to Diagon Alley. They were meeting in front of Flourish and Blotts. When she got there, Ron was standing in the middle of the alley, people passing by, as he looked at his watch. Hermione just watched him for a minute. They had been together so long that Hermione still pictured in her mind a version of Ron from ten years before. He was still growing into his own body, gangly and adorable in a way only Ron could be. But they weren't twenty anymore and Hermione found herself interested in taking the time to see those changes. His hair was already thinning right along the front, but when he fixed it well, like it was tonight, it wasn't noticeable. He looked sophisticated, dressed in a suit and more filled out with muscle than he used to be. His jaw was stronger, having finally lost the last bit of baby fat (when had that happened, Hermione wondered) and his nose was more defined.

Hermione swallowed and walked forward, catching him by the elbow as he turned to look for her to the right. "You look nice," she said.

Ron turned and smiled down at her. Hermione's breath caught as he took her hand.

"Not as nice as you," he said. They stood, neither sure what this actually was. It was a date, but it wasn't like the nights out as a married couple. And they were more familiar than a couple still getting to know one another.

"I, er, thought that maybe we should start with some guidelines," Hermione said tentatively. She had thought a lot about this, but wasn't sure how Ron would respond.

"I completely agree," Ron said.

"Really?"

"Yes," Ron said. "I think tonight should definitely be about us. No kid talk."

Hermione nodded. "Yes," she said.

"And a limit on work." Hermione nodded in agreement. "And perhaps a focus on the good things. Memories and whatnot."

Hermione's heart lightened, nodding again. "Yes, that all sounds great. Did you get through those books already?"

"No, not yet." Ron reached into his pocket, pulling out a folded up piece of parchment with a mischievous grin as he held it between two fingers. "I got your cliff notes. You left them in the book."

Hermione let out a breath, her cheeks feeling warm. "Give those to me," she said, snatching the parchment from Ron. He was still trying to suppress his smile. "You always were such a cheat."

"I was just good at saving myself a headache where I could," Ron replied. "But I agree. I think it's a good idea."

Hermione nodded, running the parchment between her two fingers. Ron reached out, taking her hand and walked with her towards a new restaurant on Diagon Alley.

"You got a reservation?" Hermione asked.

"George has a friend," Ron said. "Called in a favor for me."

They sat and Hermione asked Ron about work. She had received a briefing on the case he was working on, though in the legal department, there was someone lower working on the ramifications should they find the culprit and determine nefarious motives. He mentioned a couple other situations, though he made a point of saying it wasn't anything terribly exciting.

"What about you?" Ron asked. "Still being pulled every direction?"

"We don't need to talk about that," Hermione said. One thing not in her notes that she had decided was to not discuss anything that would make Ron feel less and their different positions within the Ministry seemed rife with problems. Ron took a deep breath, pausing as the waiter brought their food, setting it down in front of each of them.

"You know, I never begrudged you your success," Ron said. Hermione watched as he pushed vegetables back and forth with the tines of his fork. "I was always proud of the good you were doing. You're amazing, really."

Hermione stared as Ron looked at her. Her eyes filled with tears.

"The thing is, I knew that going in," Ron said with a shrug. "I knew there was a chance I was marrying a future Minister—"

"Ron, don't exaggerate—"

"I'm not," he said. Hermione looked at him. He was intent, serious. He didn't have a smirk or playful grin. "I always knew you were going to soar once you got yourself in there."

They sat silently for a few minutes.

"So, are you still working on your old project?" Ron asked.

Hermione opened a little, discussing the work and her hand off to Jodi and the work that would be coming up with the Wizengamot.

Next, Hermione asked something about Rose and Ron had to remind her that kids were off the table for tonight. She nodded and they went on to other things. The conversation was awkward, stilted. They danced around the issues, but when they got into a topic it was nice. Like everything was how it used to be. Then they would stop and it would get awkward again.

After dinner, they wandered around Diagon Alley, holding hands and finding new things to see. Hermione hadn't been to the area in a while and Ron pointed out the latest animals in the menagerie.

"Rose keeps talking about a cat," Hermione said. It had been a few years since Crookshanks died. "Sorry, kids."

"That's alright," Ron said. "Let's go look."

The clerk was uppity about someone coming in ten minutes before closing, looking at the animals there. Hermione stopped in front of one pretty white and black kitten, large spots all over its fur. It purred, rubbing up against her fingers.

They walked out once the shop was closed and it was apparent the others all down the row were closing their doors and turning off their lights as well. Hermione shivered in the night air. Ron removed his jacket and added it to hers.

"We can go get some tea at the flat," Ron said.

 _His flat_ , Hermione thought. The place without her.

"Sure," she said, wondering if this was what it was going to take to really set in that this was real. That this was something that happened in her life.

They walked quietly in the night, the sounds of people shuffling along the cobblestone to get out of the cold matching their own. Ron lead the way to the door, unlocking and opening it, allowing her to go in first.

Hermione had been here in the past. Ginny worked at the shop the summer after graduating and lived with George up here. It was two bedrooms with a small sitting area and a kitchenette. It was mostly familiar as she entered. The walls were white, where they had been painted when Ginny was here. There was a simple dining room table in a nook and a newer couch than she remembered.

"Did you buy the furniture?" Hermione asked.

"Angelina had been wanting to buy new couches," Ron said. "George said this was a good excuse to get her those, so he brought their old ones here. Still in good shape, though."

Hermione took off Ron's jacket, handing it to him, and removed her own, setting it along the back of one of the dining room table chairs. She went to sit on the couch, picking up one of the books she had just given to Ron, flipping through out of habit as he shuffled around the kitchen, bringing two cups of tea.

Hermione took hers, sipping at it quietly as her heart began to pound. She hadn't felt this nervous about almost any date she had ever been on. She felt like a teenager, unfamiliar with the process of talking to someone in a normal manner as Ron's knees brushed her.

After a few minutes, she took off her shoes and tucked her feet under her, moving closer to Ron. She took Ron's mug, setting it aside and ran her fingers along his jaw. She leaned in, worrying her bottom lip until she was close enough that they began to kiss. Ron moved slowly back, his fingers ghosting along the back of her arms, sending a chill down her spine.

Hermione moved to deepen their kiss, leaning against Ron, her lips pressing along his cheeks, trapping his earlobe between them as she reached for the top button of his shirt. Ron's hands moved, grabbing her wrists as he moved away.

"Hermione," he said softly, but she was pulled back abruptly. "We're not going there just yet."

Hermione settled back, her hands still at his chest, her wrists stilled by his grasp.

"Why not? I thought—"

"I'm not some sex maniac, Hermione. We're not going to do that just so you can ace your therapy homework," Ron said.

Hermione blushed. "Why do you think that's the only reason?"

"I saw your notes," Ron said. "Remember."

Hermione pressed her lips together. "Okay," she said.

"I'm sorry."

"No, it's fine," Hermione replied, shaking her head and feeling stupid. "There were… other exercises. Other things in one of those books. Did you read to that point yet?"

"I'm a slower reader than you," Ron said, shaking his head apologetically.

"That's okay," Hermione said quickly. "It's just… could we try something from one of those?"

"Yeah," Ron said. He leaned forward, lining her jaw with his hand and kissed her.

Hermione licked her lips and stood up. She took out her wand, clearing the coffee table to the side with the boxes that hadn't been removed just yet. She reached out for Ron's hand. He stood and followed her lead, sitting right across from her. Hermione scooted forward until her knees touched his.

"Okay, let me see your hands," Hermione said. Ron reached out and she took his hands in hers. She cleared her throat. "This, er… this one, we're supposed to just make eye contact."

"And then what?" Ron asked skeptically.

"Just that," Hermione said. "Four to five minutes. Just eye contact. No talking, either."

"Okay," Ron said. "I think I can manage that."

They sat. Hermione watched his eyes, concentrating on the lines—not quite wrinkles—that were developing on the outside. She was sure his irises were more vibrant than they used to be. Her hands felt clammy, hoping this would feel right. That they would be able to manage something, even if it was as simple as watching one another.

They sat for thirty seconds, a minute, a minute and a half. Close to two minutes in, Ron's grin was growing, more and more amused. Hermione tilted her head at him, distracted from the task at hand. A moment later Ron laughed and Hermione's cheeks burned. She felt ridiculous. She felt the sudden need to get out.

She pulled her hands from Ron's and stood.

"Hermione, wait," he said. She was already to her jacket by the time he stood up. "No, Hermione—"

She opened the door and slammed it behind her, taking the steps quickly as she put on her jacket. Her feet crunched the snow before she realized she had forgotten her shoes. Not wanting to turn back, Hermione took out her wand, performing a warming charm and walking down the alley.

"Hermione!" Ron shouted after her from the landing outside his flat, but she didn't turn around.

Hermione hurried away, wiping furiously at tears, cold against her skin. Once she was in an open space, she apparated home. Fumbling with her keys, she opened the front door and went to her room. She didn't want to stay alone tonight. She would go be part of the sleepover at Harry and Ginny's.

Hermione packed an overnight bag, zipping it up with shaky hands. She sunk into the mattress, feeling stupid and foolish and hopeless.


	6. Concessions

_**Concessions**_

Hermione, Hugo, and Rose spent Saturday morning with the Potters, having breakfast and taking their time playing and talking. When Harry took the kids on a walk, Hermione talked with Ginny about what happened. Ginny listened quietly and Hermione found herself crying again.

"But that's just Ron," Ginny said. "He's always gotten that way when he feels uncomfortable."

"I just… I felt like such an idiot."

"Well, what were your expectations?" Ginny asked.

Hermione sipped at her tea and shrugged, not knowing how to answer. She had never been one for fairytales, but even before doing more of an exercise, she had hoped to get right back on track. When Ron accused her of using it as a homework assignment, she knew he was right and felt a longing for him she hadn't sensed in a long time. She regretted the half dozen times that came to mind in the past few months where Ron tried to get things started and she shut it down. She wondered if Ron would be with her now if she had only reciprocated. Even a few of those times.

"Well, just keep trying," Ginny said. "You'll get there."

When Hermione headed back to their own house and went to put away her things, she noticed a vase of flowers on the nightstand and her shoes set neatly at the foot of the bed. Hermione opened the note tucked under the vase.

 _I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ruin the night. Let's try again?_

 _Love,  
Ron_

Hermione pressed her lips together, her heart bolstered.

"Rose, Hugo," she shouted out. "How about we go see Dad at Uncle George's shop?"

They both squealed happily and Hermione helped them get into fresh clothes, brushing their teeth and hair. Hermione changed as well, freshening up in the mirror as Rose kept asking if she was ready yet. The three of them went to the curb and Hermione held out her wand hand, holding onto Hugo tight as the Knight Bus showed up. She paid and told the driver they wanted to go to Diagon Alley.

Hugo tugged hard on Hermione's hand as they weaved in and out towards Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. Hermione redirected them to the side of the building where the staircase to the flat went up, knocking on the door. Ron answered and looked surprised before he smiled.

"Hey there," he said, catching Rose as she flew into his arms.

Hugo tackled his leg as Ron looked at Hermione, tilting his head. Hermione smiled, wishing she had thought of what to say. They shouldn't talk about the night before around Hugo and Rose.

"I thought we should come down and see what you were up to today," Hermione said.

Ron gave her an easy, grateful smile.

"Daddy, I want to get a fake wand," Rose said.

"We have a whole box of them up here," George's voice shouted from inside.

Hermione looked into the room and he sat at the small table, papers scattered all over. She felt sudden apprehension, wondering what Ron had told George to this point and what he thought about the whole thing.

"Uncle George!" Rose shouted, scrambling down as Hugo went over, making shooting noises and play punching him.

"Manners, Hugo. Be nice," Hermione said, though George was already playing right into it.

"Come in," Ron said. He leaned in, holding Hermione by the neck and giving her a few swift kisses.

He took her hand and as bad as Hermione felt the night before, she felt that good as Ron pulled her inside.

"Where are the wands, Uncle George?" Rose asked.

"Well, let's go look in the boxes, shall we?" George suggested. Hugo and Rose shouted their approval, following them over to the boxes as Ron and Hermione stayed near the nook. She looked at the paper, pushing them around.

"What's this?" she asked.

"You know that case? George has been trying to replicate those barriers."

"Do you think that's a good idea?" Hermione asked, looking at him, concerned.

"Well, first he wants to do it on a small scale. You know, trap a single person," Ron said. "Also, there would have to be a way out. In the meantime, I'm getting some good ideas on how to combat anymore that come up. It will help us narrow down exactly what's being used."

"I see," Hermione said, shuffling the papers.

"You alright?" Ron asked and she snapped back towards him. "After you left… I shouldn't have laughed. I was just feeling strange and it came out and…"

"No, I shouldn't have gone over that," Hermione said.

"Why did you?"

Hermione swallowed, not wanting to explain the thought process. "It was stupid."

"But—"

"Daddy, look!" Rose said. She waved one wand and it turned into a rat. She dropped it and it scampered around as the kids acted scared. The rat eventually stopped, turning back into a wand. "I want that one!"

"Good taste, Rosie," George approved.

They didn't get a chance to talk again as Ron took them out, walking around enjoying the warm November day. They eventually stopped at the cafe, getting hot chocolate for the kids as Hugo told Ron everything that had happened the night before playing with their cousins.

"James helped us build a blanket fort," Hugo said. "He took Uncle Harry's wand and got into _big_ trouble when he tried to make it bigger."

"I bet," Ron said, smiling at the idea. "You should never grab an adult's wand, right?"

"Yeah," Hugo said.

"I beat Albus five times at chess," Rose said.

"That's my girl," Ron said proudly.

Hermione kept a hand on his knee as long as possible, thankful for every moment, but wishing they could be alone again. That they could talk about things they should have talked about the night before. Try to connect again.

Hugo dragged his feet by early afternoon and Ron stuck him on his shoulders, following them back to the bus, riding along this time. Even Rose was tired, leaning against Hermione and closing her eyes. Hugo was asleep by the time they got home, his limp body slumped against Ron.

"Why don't you go read for a while," Hermione suggested to Rose, who went upstairs, followed by Ron carrying Hugo to put down for the rest of his nap.

Hermione went into the kitchen, wiping down the already clean counters as she waited for Ron to come down. He entered the kitchen standing on the other side, leaning against the countertops.

"Thanks for bringing them today," Ron said.

"Thank you for… the flowers… and the note."

"Did you want to talk about it?" Ron asked.

"Honestly, no," Hermione said.

"We are going to have to get to the hard stuff some time, 'mione."

Hermione knew this. She wished they could just have endless days like today, but somewhere in the back of her mind she knew conversation would have to arise about what was happening. Every time the books she read brought up these aspects of conflict resolution Hermione could feel herself tense up. She took less notes in these areas, wanting other things to be tried first. Exercises like last night that might reignite something deeper than the arguments.

"I was thinking I need to tell the rest of my family," Ron said. "Or at least my parents. Everyone else can find out without a real conversation."

"Right," Hermione said. She took a breath.

"If it makes you feel better, I'm pretty sure they'll assume it's all my fault," Ron said.

"It doesn't," Hermione said. "But thanks for trying."

"Have you talked to your parents?"

"No," Hermione said. "I think I've been waiting this out to see if I could avoid that conversation."

"You should talk to your mum," Ron said. His brows were knit and he looked concerned. "I'm guessing you want to."

Hermione didn't know how to respond. She didn't want to tell her mother about this. She didn't want to admit for a moment to her parents that she was failing at something. Hermione had never felt like she disappointed them in getting top grades or doing what they hoped she would. The closest she came was right before the war and if things had really gone sideways, they wouldn't have remembered well enough to be disappointed.

"Yeah," Hermione lied. "We did have them on the schedule to come to dinner tomorrow night."

"Okay, well I'll go to my parents'," Ron said. "I'd ask if you wanted me to take the kids, but I think your parents are already going to hate me as it is."

The sad grin was forced and Hermione knew he didn't like admitting this to their families any more than she did. After the blow up, Hermione had called her mother once, asking if she knew anyone looking for a nanny. She was able to set Britney up with one of her parents' dental assistants, which at least made her feel better about pulling away a source of income for her. Hermione managed not to mention the reason then, but Ron was right. It was time to let them know.

* * *

Hermione had a plan for how she was going to share the news. She would wait until after dinner. She would get her dad reading to or playing with the kids, then pull her mum aside and talk to her. If the kids went to bed before they left, she would include her father in the conversation as well. Otherwise, she would ask her mother to fill him in.

She had set all the plates out and the casserole was in the oven finishing. The knock on the door came and she heard Rose and Hugo pounding down the stairs as she met them, standing right behind them as Rose pulled the door open.

"Grandma! Grandpa!" the kids shouted in a chaotic chorus, the Grangers walking in, giving hugs and kisses all around. Grandpa Granger had picked up Hugo, holding him on his hip.

"Is Ron on his way?" Grandma Granger asked.

"Daddy doesn't live here," Rose said, her hand in Grandma Granger's.

Hermione's parents froze. "No?" Grandma Granger asked.

"No, Daddy went away," Hugo chimed in.

They looked to her and Hermione felt her cheeks warm as she licked her lips. She had found out it was Rose that had told Albus and, being nearby, Ginny. But she had told them that day that they weren't talking about Mum and Dad. Hermione supposed she should have reminded them about that today.

"He's at his parents for the day," Hermione said. They were still looking blankly at her.

"Rosie," Grandma Granger started, "why don't you have Grandpa go read the new books we brought."

Rose perked up and Hugo dropped to the ground, the three of them heading off towards the stairs. Hermione watched them leave, rubbing her hands together as her mother came over, draping an arm around her shoulders.

"Something you needed to tell us?"

"Yes," Hermione said. "Let's… let's go finish dinner."

Grandma Granger helped her as she bustled around, explaining that arguing had happened more and more. She brought up the problems with hiring Britney as a nanny and her mother nodded like she had suspected there was something more involved in that than Hermione had admitted before.

"Why is he so against hiring help?" she asked.

"He just… he thinks _we_ should be the ones to have the kids when they aren't at school."

"Okay," her mother said, being measured in every question and reaction. "And that's what caused him to leave?"

"Not… not just that," Hermione said. She pulled the casserole out and turned towards her mother, not raising her eyes. "I… I said something awful. Mum, it just came out. I was so angry and I just couldn't…"

"Oh, love," her mother said.

"He just… walked away."

"Has he been back?"

"Yes," Hermione said. "He comes and takes the kids every morning. Picks them up, too. And we're seeing someone."

"A therapist?"

"Yes," Hermione replied.

Her mother took the oven mitts, carrying the food to the table. "Well, that could be very good. Why didn't you come talk to us when it happened?"

"I thought I could change his mind," Hermione admitted.

"Well, we are here to help," her mother said. She stood next to her and cupped Hermione's chin in her hand. "If you need someone to watch the kids or advice or anything."

"Thanks, Mum."

"Your dad's going to be a bit anxious to hear all this," her mother added. "I think we should make him stew until after dessert, don't you think?"

Hermione shared a conspiratorial grin with her and they called everyone else down.

* * *

Ron and Hermione walked to the therapist's office that Wednesday. Hermione was anxious again as Ron held her hand. "How did it go with your parents?"

"Fine," Hermione said. "Rose kind of dropped the bomb for me. Mum had Dad go play with them and made him wait until they were in bed before he got an explanation. He had thought of half a dozen names for you before he got the full story."

Ron nodded. "Well, my mum had a half a dozen names for me within the first few minutes. I think she's had a running list going since we all became teenagers, though."

"Oh Ron," Hermione said, pulling him up short.

"It's alright," Ron said. "She calmed down. George talked her down."

Hermione wanted to ask exactly what they had said. She wanted to offer to go and let Molly know that it wasn't Ron's fault. She pressed her lips together, hoping this wouldn't get any worse for either of them. Her own dad had listened with a furrowed brow, most of the information repeated by her mum.

They were lead again into the office and sat where they had before, Yarborough with his kind smile and calm demeanor. He followed up on the books. Hermione offered up her thoughts on all three. Ron had finished two of them and was part way through the third. They stumbled over each other explaining their date night.

"I, er, had a lapse," Ron said, looking at her. Hermione was grateful he was taking responsibility in the moment.

"A lapse?" Yarborough asked.

"I wanted to try one of the intimacy exercises from the books," Hermione explained. "Ron started laughing and I… I left."

"Those aren't always easy to get through," Yarborough said. "And honestly, you'll both have to find the ones that work best for you."

"We got to have a family day Saturday," Ron said with a nod. "That was nice."

"And have you approached any of the more difficult topics?" Yarborough asked.

"Not yet," Hermione said, feeling nervous. It was like a monster she had been avoiding was about to rear its head.

"Today I want to see if we can't just look at how you two communicate through these issues and start to rebuild from there. I want to begin with what you think really caused things to break down."

Hermione cleared her throat. Ron shifted in his chair.

"Well, we've disagreed for a while on how to handle the fact that we both work for the Ministry and our schedules don't always allow for us to be home when Rose and Hugo get out," Hermione explained. "I have suggested for at least the last year that we get a part time nanny. They could pick up the children and watch them until one of us can get home. Help with homework and maybe even start dinner here and there."

"Ron, you're shaking your head," Yarborough noticed.

Hermione felt herself bristle. This was always how the argument started. Ron wagging his head before he even listened to a word of what she had to say. No argument besides the fact that they were the parents, as though she were unaware of the fact.

"There's no reason for it," Ron said. "We both have flexible enough jobs to work around it, if we would just work together."

" _Had_ , Ron," Hermione snapped. "We _had_ more flexible jobs. My jobs now don't always allow for it."

"When did your schedule change, Hermione?" Yarborough interjected.

"Two months ago, officially," Hermione said. "We were informed about the shifts and the induction to the Wizengamot back in February, so there was a lot of planning that went into it. I had legislation to hand off and finish. Plus, I have been sitting in on certain meetings since the spring."

"How has that change been for you?" Yarborough asked. "Overall."

"Er, well," Hermione looked at him, realizing no one had asked her that. Her parents had talked about how proud they were. Her and Ron had argued about what it meant to their family and home. Others had asked about details of the job. But no one asked her how it had made her feel. "Hard. I had work that I haven't been able to let go of. Not yet."

"You could," Ron said.

"No, I can't," Hermione said, looking over at him. He rolled his eyes sitting back. "Do you think I like not being there when Rose gets home? That I can't take off when there are meetings? Do you think that makes me feel like a good mum when there's things that have changed and I haven't noticed?"

"What exactly has changed?" Yarborough asked.

"Hugo doesn't like his food to touch," Hermione said. She hated being the one in these sessions that got emotional. She was choking up trying not to let it surface again. "The past two weeks I've had to watch that his grapes don't touch the sandwich or that the salad has room on all sides. He gets upset if it's not just right, but he didn't used to be that way."

"You just eat what touched," Ron said. "Then he'll ignore it."

"But you get to see that as it's happening!" Hermione said.

"You could, too, Hermione," Ron replied. "If you just let some things go—"

"I can't," Hermione said. "I have worked so hard and women always have more difficulty getting higher positions if they take extended time for family."

"How long are you gone most days?" Yarborough asked.

"We all leave around eight in the morning," Hermione said. "Sometimes I'll leave a little earlier. And I generally come home around five."

Yarborough looked to Ron and he nodded a confirmation. "Once in awhile it's later," Ron said. "More often now than before this job."

"And what about you, Ron?" Yarborough asked. "How has this shift affected you?"

Ron sat, saying nothing for several minutes. Hermione felt herself getting worked up over his silence, angry that he could leave her waiting when she had opened herself up.

"I feel like I lost a partner," Ron said.

"Can you elaborate?"

Ron cleared his throat and licked his lips. "A few years ago, my best friend was promoted. Before that, we worked all our cases together. Even if we were shifted onto separate tasks, we would talk about them outside of work or just… help each other where we could. It's not like Hermione and I didn't argue before all this, but it feels like that. It's… it's been like all the work we had put into making decisions and watching Rose and Hugo and everything… it was just gone."

Hermione hadn't thought of it like that. She looked at Ron, who was looking down at the floor.

"Where would you both say the space for compromise is?" Yarborough asked.

"I can't cut back on work," Hermione said.

"You could let Jodi take over—"

"I'm not letting that one slip through the cracks," Hermione argued back.

"No, you just can't let go, period," Ron said.

They were arguing their points again, back and forth loudly in Yarborough's office. It was several minutes before Hermione became aware that he was watching them, focused. She pulled back, holding onto her knee as Ron finished up.

"—you don't have to always be the superhero in the situation. Everyone already knows how smart you are, you don't have to prove anything."

"Do you feel that's the motivation?" Yarborough asked Ron.

"Yes," Ron said. "I mean, no, not really. She's a perfectionist. But there are plenty of people she works with that can do it. She just doesn't want to trust them."

Yarborough nodded, looking over the notepad where the quill was taking down notes. They all sat and Hermione gave Ron a side glance, swallowing. So many of his compliments were mixed in with acidic accusations and it was a terrible feeling that he was angry at the work she was doing.

"These sort of shifts can be problematic. Certainly good communication can help, but they are added stress to that which may already exist. Perhaps before our next meeting, both of you can examine where there is room for some give and take on your end, then we can continue."

"Alright," Hermione said, though she suspected that Ron thought she should simply quit on some of her responsibilities.

* * *

Ron was flipping through a file, jumping between notes on the file and an ongoing list of ways to ease the situation with Hermione.

 _Alternate drop offs  
Ask more about projects  
Find ways to involve her in the kids' lives_

There were some that brought bitter thoughts. Like how often he tried to tell her about what he had done with Rose and Hugo only to be snapped at like it was a ploy to make her feel guilty. He sighed, rubbing his forehead and digging back into the file.

Something in his pocket buzzed. Ron jumped, unsure of what it could be. His wand was on his desk in front of him. He calmed, realizing it was the phone—he did this every time—and opened it up, taking four buzzes before he remembered how to answer.

"Er, yes?" he answered, talking loudly before remembering that he didn't need to.

"Is this Mr. Weasley I am speaking to?" a woman's voice asked on the other end.

"Yes, this is him," he said.

"We have your daughter here in the Headmaster's office," the woman said.

Ron stood, knocking over a mug of coffee, the dregs spilling over a stack of papers. He waved his wand and it cleared up.

"Is she alright?"

"She is fine, Mr. Weasley. She has been in an altercation with another student," she said. "We need you or your wife to come as soon as you're able."

"Yes, of course," Ron said. "I'm on my way."

Ron's finger hovered over the phone, trying to find the end button and then he rushed to grab what he needed for the night. He hurried out the office, weaving on the floor until he arrived at Hermione's office.

"She's busy right now," her assistant said.

"This is important," Ron replied.

"I can't disturb—"

Ron walked right passed her as she flustered, opening Hermione's door. She was sitting across from someone who looked fairly important. Her eyes snapped to his, eyes wide, her stance puffing up.

"Ron, I—"

"Rose's school called," he said.

Hermione gave a single nod, then turned to the man. "I'm sorry, but this can't wait," she replied.

"Yes, yes, I understand," he said, moving slowly as he pushed himself from the chair with some effort. "I will send you that data as soon as I'm able. And we will—"

"Yes, thank you," Hermione cut him off as he spoke slowly. She came out of the office, waving her door closed. "Cancel the next two hours for me, Savannah."

"But Mrs. Granger, you have—"

"Do it, Savannah," she said, grabbing Ron's hand with ease as the two walked down the corridor. "What did they say?" she followed up once they were in the lift."

"Some sort of fight," Ron said. "Or argument with a student."

"What student?" Hermione asked.

"I didn't ask, I just wanted to get there quickly."

Hermione nodded with a somber look. They stayed silent, being strategic in getting to the school in a muggle length of time. Ron opened the door for Hermione and they went through, going to the front office. Rose was sitting in one chair, her legs hanging a foot above the ground as she swung them back and forth. She worried her lips the way Hermione did.

"You okay, sweetheart?" Hermione asked, squatting in front of her.

Rose nodded, but wouldn't look at Hermione. She looked well enough. Ron couldn't see any marks or problems. She wasn't even crying though she concentrated. A door to the left opened and the Headmaster poked his head out.

"Mr. Weasley, Mrs. Granger," he said. Hermione stood. "Can we see you a moment?"

Hermione leaned down and kissed the top of Rose's head. Ron give her a nudge along the jaw on his way passed her. They were ushered in and there was already a woman in another chair. Her legs were crossed and she was bouncing her foot in an irritable manner. Ron and Hermione took a chair each, waiting.

"What is this about?" Ron asked.

"It seems Rose has had some issues with Mrs. Wagner's daughter, Katie," the headmaster said.

"What kind of problems?" Hermione asked.

"She shaved my daughter's head," the woman snapped.

"I'm sorry?" Hermione asked.

"My daughter went to bed with a full head of hair and she woke up with nothing," Mrs. Wagner said. Her face was going red and she was pushing herself nearly off the seat.

"Mrs. Wagner has told us that Katie said Rose have been arguing with one another during breaks, often ending in shouting matches, according to Miss Ford," the headmaster said. "She has been able to handle it while here at school, but this type of assault is something we cannot tolerate."

"When could Rose have possible shaved Katie's head?" Hermione asked incredulously.

"In the middle of last night," Mrs. Wagner said as she held her phone, moving her finger along the screen at a furious pace. The headmaster looked genuinely uncomfortable at the conversation. "There! Right there!"

Hermione took the phone and shared it with Ron. Sure enough there was a little girl without a stitch of hair. This was more than shaving and they both knew it. Ron and Hermione exchanged a glance before Hermione pulled herself up and turned back.

"Rose has been at home every night," Hermione said. "I don't understand how anyone could think a six year old could even sneak out in the middle of the night to do something."

"Your daughter—"

"Besides, we don't even know where the Wagners live," Hermione continued as Mrs. Wagner fumed in her chair. "Really, I don't understand why we've been pulled out of work for this."

Ron looked at the headmaster. He hemmed and hawed.

"Well, there have been other issues with Rose and Katie. Katie was found in a hole on the playground last week. A hole there didn't appear to be there before, either."

"How long is their break?" Ron asked.

"Fifteen minutes," the headmaster replied.

"You're telling me someone saw our daughter dig a hole in fifteen minutes and push Katie in?" Ron asked.

"Well, no—"

"I'm not following this line of logic in which a child is removed from her classroom based on such flimsy accusations," Hermione said.

"Flimsy!" Mrs. Wagner said shrilly. "Every time my daughter even talks to your daughter, these things happen!"

"Then perhaps your daughter should stop talking to Rose," Ron snapped at her.

"Headmaster, unless you have any evidence of our daughter actually causing any of these things to happen, I think you have us here on a rather ridiculous premise."

The headmaster sighed. "Yes, you'll be free to go. But we would like to see Rose and Katie find some kind of understanding in all this. If you will talk to her, then you are free to go."

"What about Katie's hair?!" Mrs. Wagner screamed, getting to her feet.

Ron and Hermione stood, walking out of the office as Mrs. Wagner continued to rail against headmaster. When they got to where Rose still sat, Hermione took her hand.

"We're going home," she said tightly and they walked out and called for the Knight bus on the curb.

When they arrived Hermione guided Rose into a chair and sat down on the couch opposite. Ron took the armchair across from Rose, leaning with his elbows on his knees.

"This is very bad," Hermione said to Rose. Rose looked down, her cheeks pink as she avoided their eyes. "You are sticking classmates in holes and making them lose their hair? What has gotten into you?"

"I didn't mean to," Rose said. "Katie was making fun of my clothes and then the hole was there. And… the hair—"

"You cannot just do these things because people upset you," Hermione snapped. She pushed herself to her feet, pacing back and forth. "Do you know what happens to people who do magic in front of muggles normally, Rose?"

"Rose, it's not your fault," Ron cut in, his voice forceful. Rose looked up at him, her eyes wide and coated with tears. "We know you can't control your magic—"

"But she can control her temper," Hermione snapped back at him.

"Mum, I'm sorry," Rose said. "I didn't mean—"

"It doesn't matter what you mean, Rose Nymphadora. You cannot keep breaking the rules and just say you didn't mean it."

Rose began crying outright. Ron stood, stepping over to her and picking her up. She wrapped her arms around Ron's neck as he hugged her, rubbing her back and hushing her. As he turned around seeing Hermione, he knew she was angry at this approach. Her teeth were clenched and her lips tight.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," Rose said. She hiccuped into his shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"You have to find a way to deal with people like Katie," Ron said quietly. "Ignore them, if you have to, but you have to try and avoid the things that make you use your magic, right?"

Rose nodded into his shoulder, gripping tighter. He set her down, reaching down to wipe her tears. "You go up and work on your homework for a bit, alright?"

Rose nodded silently. She looked at Hermione, then grabbed her backpack and hurried towards the stairs. Ron knew what was coming, but Hermione waited. She waited until Rose was out of sight.

"I can't believe you, Ron," she hissed.

"She can't decide on these things," Ron said. "It's just how magic works."

"That is just an excuse, Ron," she leaned against the back of the chair. "Rose has to take accountability—"

"Rose needs to feel supported first!"

"Yes, let's support her all the way to Azkaban!"

"Hermione, you don't get it," Ron said. "You were this perfect little child with no problems and no conflict. You don't get what it's like to be thinking angry thoughts and just—"

"You don't think I get it," Hermione huffed. "I spent my entire childhood teased and ridiculed, Ron. And then, _then_ , I went to Hogwarts where I was called mudblood and treated like a know-it-all by my classmates—you included—and I never did anything like that."

"Well we'll crown you Saint Hermione, then," Ron said. "We don't all have it so easy."

Hermione's eyes narrowed at him and she swallowed, shaking her head.

"Look, we're getting off track," Ron said. "Rose needs to be taught how to control her temper."

"No, we both know what the best solution is," Hermione said, looking down at the couch. "You were right. She should have been in a wizarding primary school."

Ron looked at her, mouth gaping. Hermione wouldn't look at him directly, but she was saying he had been right. She was conceding a point he had made for the last two years at least. He swallowed back the anger he had held just a few minutes before, surprised as he sat in the armchair again.

"Talking to her about ignoring what they say isn't working," Hermione said. "We should look at other schooling options."

"No!" Rose cried from the stairs. She came running down, never having gone down the hallway apparently. "No, you can't!"

She grabbed onto Hermione's arms. Hermione raised one hand, tucking loose hairs behind Rose's ear. "Rose, we can't keep worrying about what's going to happen to your classmates. If it gets bad enough, the ministry could get involved and we can't risk something like that."

"I'll be better!" Rose said. "I don't want to leave Miss Ford's class! Please, Mum."

Hermione looked over to Ron, her eyebrows furrowed. She turned back to Rose and opened her mouth.

"We won't pull you from that class then," Ron said quickly, before Hermione continued to tell her the reasons for such a decision. "It's a good school, Rosie, but you will need to work on keeping your temper, right?"

Rose nodded. She wrapped herself around Hermione's middle as Hermione gave a grateful look towards Ron.

"When Katie says mean things, you have to ignore it," Hermione said. "You come tell us instead."

"I will," Rose said. "I'm sorry I did magic, Mum."

"That's alright," she said. She kissed the top of Rose's head.

Ron sighed and leaned back. He needed to go fix that girl's hair. He would have to do it late at night. And perhaps delete the photographs. All the better if he could make that shrill woman think she was insane.


	7. Ron's Mistake

**A/N:** This one's a little shorter than the others but... ILVERMORNY! Any other Pukwudgies out there? So fun to be sorted into *my* country's wizarding school. Not sure what to think about it, but hey... in celebration I made sure I'd have something :) Thank you for all the reviews so far! Loving your reactions!

 _ **Ron's Mistake**_

"Hermione, come with," Ron said.

"It's your family's gathering," Hermione said.

Ron moved in closer. "We're still a family, 'mione. Mum made it clear I was to make sure you knew you were welcome at the Burrow. Harry and Ginny will want to see you. Rose and Hugo will be happy if you come, too."

The children were currently packing up whatever they wanted to take with them. There was one weekend every November the Weasleys got together. The men went out and found the biggest tree they could for Christmas and the women all went shopping or helped Molly get some of her homemade holiday treats prepared. Hermione had always enjoyed being part of the chaos, but she looked around the house, trying to find some excuse to stay behind this time. She hadn't seen the Weasleys since Ron moved out. She had seen Ginny and George in passing, but to be there when everyone knew they were separated felt odd.

"Where are we even going to stay, Ron?" she asked.

The Weasleys had finally gotten rid of the ghoul in the attic and converted it into another bedroom. This way, every couple and adult had their own space while the children would pile into the sitting room in the winter and build tents in the summer months.

"My room," Ron said with a shrug.

"Ron—"

"Alright, if you're not comfortable with that I'll get a room in the village."

"No, it's fine," Hermione said. She took a deep breath. She wanted to go. She really did. And looking at Ron with his eyebrows raised at her made her feel like it would be like any other year. "Alright, then I need to pack."

Hermione turned towards their room and Ron caught her wrist, pulling her in for a moment. He moved his fingers up and into her hair. She closed her eyes, face tilted up as he leaned in and took her lips. As he pulled back, Hermione leaned into his chest, wrapped around his waist. They stood and swayed for several minutes before Hermione pulled away to go get a bag packed.

When they arrived at the Burrow, the house was already full and bustling. Molly stopped mixing cookie dough to hug Rose and Hugo tightly, kissing their cheeks and chatting with them. Hermione's heart pounded until Molly pulled her in as well.

"How are you, love?" Molly asked, her cheeks round and pink from chasing kids and working in the warm kitchen. Hermione already felt better.

"I'm well. How are you?"

"Good, dear. I'm glad you came," Molly said. "And there's my Ronald!"

She turned her attention to Ron. He reached out, taking Hermione's duffle with a wink. Hermione went to sit by Ginny, who was cracking walnuts. Hermione picked up a nut cracker and a handful of nuts to help.

"You two are looking sweet on each other," Ginny said quietly.

Hermione let out a heavy breath, looking over her shoulder as Ron went through the door towards the stairs. Rose and Hugo were already playing with their cousins in the other room.

"Until we actually try and resolve anything," Hermione said. Ginny nodded. "We're taking that slow, but I swear more just gets piled on."

"Like what?" Ginny asked.

Hermione looked around again. No children. "Well, Rose had a couple incidents with a girl at school she isn't getting along with."

Ginny tilted her head. "That doesn't seem like her."

"It's not, normally. But she lets this girl get the better of her and she's used some magic," Hermione explained. "I'm trying to teach her to be accountable for her actions, but Ron… he just undermines me at every turn. Tells her it's not her fault and then we fight over it and… it's a mess, Ginny."

"I see," Ginny said. "But it isn't like Rose is doing magic on purpose. They can't at that age."

"I know," Hermione said. "But that isn't the point. I want my daughter to not let what others think rule her life. She might not be able to completely control her magic, but she can control what she allows to get to her. Besides, what if it gets worse, Ginny? If she weren't at a muggle school it wouldn't matter, but if something happened there that was really terrible the ministry would be dealing with it. No matter what we did, she would bear a good amount with that. I can't let that happen to her."

"That's true," Ginny agreed. "No, you're right about that. Have you talked about moving her? There's an opening in Albus's class."

"I actually told Ron he was right about the school issue, but Rose likes her teacher. She begged us not to move her. At this point, we just have to help her control what she can with that."

"Yeah," Ginny said. They cracked a few more walnuts a piece before Ginny spoke again. "You know, I bet Ron's just trying to keep her from carrying the guilt in the long term. After what he did when we were kids."

Hermione stopped, tilting her head. "What do you mean?"

"He never told you?" Ginny asked. "Well, I guess he probably wouldn't want to talk about it."

"Talk about what?"

Ginny took her own turn looking around, making sure Ron hadn't come back. "There was once when I was about four that Mum made him take me with him to play in the yard. Of course, he was annoyed because he didn't want to watch over me. Honestly, I was probably being an obnoxious tag along as well. George says I used to gloat when Mum would make them take me somewhere. Anyway, we were out in the garden and he got really brassed and pushed me. Next thing I know I'm in the middle of the forest, fifteen feet up in a tree."

"No!" Hermione gasped. Ginny nodded, her lips pressed together.

"I was there all evening and most of the night while they were looking for me," Ginny continued. "Turns out I was in a spot about a quarter mile behind the Lovegood's house. Xenophilius was the one that got me down. His wife, Pandora, held me crying all the way over the hill, back to my family's. She was a very sweet women. We didn't see her much, really, but I've never forgotten her from that."

"I'm guessing Ron got into trouble," Hermione said.

"Not as much as you would think. My parents lectured him, I'm sure, but I think he felt bad enough about it on his own. He let me follow in whatever he was doing for awhile after that. At some point when we were teenagers, I was telling the story at a family dinner. Everyone was laughing. I mean, it had been years. Ron didn't think it was funny. He left to go up to his room and when I went up to tell him to not be so moody about it, I saw him on his bed practically sobbing."

"Ron?" Hermione asked. If something happened to Hugo or Rose she could see him getting worked up. Or anyone in his family. But the Ron she remembered from Hogwarts wouldn't have been that way over something that had happened that long before. Still, Ginny nodded.

"I think he always carried that with him," Ginny said. "I'm guessing he just doesn't want Rose to feel that way."

"Yeah," Hermione said with nothing else that could be added to that revelation.

Fleur came to help, which meant her going on about how they would have done this in France, and soon after Angelina, who was already larger at six months this pregnancy than she was with Fred at full term. One activity moved to another which moved to another. And Hermione continued to think about what Ginny had told her.

* * *

Ron, Harry, George, and Bill took the kids all out to build snowmen and play in the snow. Several of them kept trying to tackle Ron and Harry, though the two had wands out, sending each into a built up bank of snow at a steady rate before they could even touch. Hugo fought against it, his feet swinging in the air as he gritted his teeth. All the way into the snow. George was egging on a snowball fight, making his own with magic and blocking the ones coming his way.

"Daddy, I need to talk to you," Rose said, her voice distressed, her eyebrows furrowed.

Ron lowered his wand and squatted down. "What it is, Rosie?" he asked.

He was face-to-face with her when Rose's face lit up with a smile and she pulled her hands from behind her back, squashing a snowball in each hand on either side of Ron's face. She giggled, covering her mouth as Ron grimaced against the cold.

"Why you…"

Ron reached over, throwing Rose over his shoulder easily. She continued to laugh and squeal. Harry was left on his own to continue with the others now closing in on him while Ron moved her over to the pile of fresh, soft snow.

"No, Daddy, no!" she shouted through her laughter. "Daddy!"

"What do you say?" Ron asked, grabbing her by the ankles, swinging her back and forth in front of him. Her curly red hair bounced comically below her.

"I'm going to get you!" Rose shouted.

"Nope, wrong thing," Ron said and swung her, letting go so she fell into the snow screaming.

"That's my sister!" Hugo came up, pounding on the back of Ron's legs.

Ron smiled, giving Hugo a turn. Then came Fred, who Ron handled more gently since he was only three, then James and so on. He collapsed himself into the powder snow when they had exhausted him and ended up with a whole pile of nieces, nephews, and his own children on him until Harry came over, calling them off.

"That's enough, James," Harry said. "Let your uncle breath, why don't you?"

George picked up Fred, holding him while extending a hand to Ron, helping him back up again as Bill distracted all the kids with another game to play.

"Merlin, when did we get so old," Ron asked, holding his back.

"You've still got a long way ahead of you, little Ronnie," George said, bouncing Fred on his hip as Fred laid his head down George's shoulder, obviously getting sleepy. "Best not throw in the towel just yet."

They both sat down on the worn out bench beside the house, Ron stretching out.

"I've been meaning to talk to you," George said.

Ron scoffed. "I live right over your shop," he said. "Did you forget the directions?"

"No," George laughed. "I think I was just waiting for the right time, actually."

"What is it?" Ron asked. It wasn't like George to get this somber. Particularly on a family weekend like this. "Did you need me to move out or something?"

"No, nothing like that," George said. "You've got the place as long as you need it. But I was actually going to see what you might think about a partnership?"

Ron blinked blankly at George. "What kind of partnership?"

"What kind do you think? With the business."

"You can't be serious," Ron said.

"Of course I'm serious. You've been helping on these Weasley Shack Traps—"

"No, I've been picking your brain on what you think the spells might be," Ron corrected him. "You've been the one making things up."

"You figured out that none of the spells can penetrate the ground," George pointed out.

"Yeah, so that the next time one comes up we know we can just do a digging spell," Ron argued.

"Look, you shouldn't piss off someone that wants to hire you," George said. "Angelina and I have been talking about this. She wants to spend more time focused at home."

"And in a few years when your kids are older?" Ron asked.

"She's never really been fully involved. Angelina wants to do her own thing. But you know, I've always wanted another real partner in the shop."

Ron knew he wouldn't bring up Fred in that way directly. At least he wouldn't say that he's felt that way since Fred died. And Ron didn't know how he felt about filling those kinds of shoes as it was. George and Ron got along really well over the past decade or so, but Ron would never be Fred. He would never be the twin that was always George's perfect match.

"I don't know," Ron said.

"Just think about it," George said. "I'll make it worth your while."

"Okay, I will."

* * *

Ron fell onto his bed, face planting into the pillow. Hermione laughed beside him. "They've done me in, Hermione," Ron said. "The whole lot of them."

"I bet," Hermione said. She reached an arm over and rubbed Ron's lower back.

He groaned and turned over. "Are you enjoying yourself?"

"I am," Hermione said.

Ron wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer on the bed that was too small for both of them. He felt her cheek with the tip of his nose as Hermione adjusted herself, stroking her fingernails back and forth across his forearm. She closed her eyes, breathing in and out.

"I think that one book called this extended cuddling," Ron whispered.

A smile graced Hermione's lips. "I think it's only extended if we stay like this for awhile."

"I'm okay with that. I think I like this one."

"Me too," Hermione whispered back.

They stayed like this as the house seemed to settle on the levels below them. One door after another shut. Commands for children to go to sleep faded into silence and Ron took in every minute movement, every breath, every swallow. He loved the feel of her fingers, not because it meant more, but because it seemed to be enough. Just to hold each other. Hermione turned, looking at Ron. She turned in his arms and he tightened around her as Hermione's hand came up to his neck.

"Thank you for talking me into coming," Hermione whispered.

"Of course," Ron said.

"Ginny was telling me about a time you made her disappear," Hermione said. Ron pulled back a little. "When she was about Hugo's age."

Ron took in a breath and held it, wondering of all the things they could have talked about why Ginny would have told her that. He still remembered that day so clearly. Running inside to tell his mum. The way he couldn't get the words out. How Bill and Charlie watched him while his mum called for their dad to come home early from work to search. All of it. Every painful moment. He didn't exactly have the words for it when he was five, but it was the first time in Ron's life that he knew he had been an asshole.

Ron licked his lips and tried to turn away from Hermione, tried to get out. She held onto him, pulling him back.

"It's okay, it's okay," she said frantically. Ron looked Hermione in the eye, worried about what conclusions she may have drawn.

"I thought I had killed her," Ron choked out quietly. "I just… they were looking and all I could think was that my sister would be dead and it would be all my fault and they would take me away to Azkaban."

Hermione's eyes softened as she moved her hand to his cheek, moving her thumb back and forth.

"I get why you approach Rose's use of magic in school the way you do now," Hermione said. Her eyes shifted between his, her hand held him there. Ron sniffed, turning his nose into his sleeve to keep from blowing snot all over Hermione. "You don't want her to carry that with her. You shouldn't carry it with you, either."

Ron licked his lips, looking over. Hermione leaned in and kissed his cheek.

"I'll be more patient with Rose," Hermione promised.

Ron reached for her again. He pulled her in, feeling her shape against his, her fingers curling against his skin as he kissed her. "Thank you," Ron said.

* * *

Ron and Hermione had actually had a decent week and half between sessions. Ron had even stayed over one night, rather than going back to his own flat. They had a real conversation on how to help Rose control her temper with Katie. They worked together on it and Ron couldn't have been happier about how the conversations had gone. They were civil and cooperative. When one of them didn't agree with an approach, they would brainstorm together until they had a solution they thought would work well. They hadn't worked on much else, but it gave him hope on how their future looked.

And then he sat alone in Yarbrough's office as the receptionist let him know an owl had just arrived and Mrs. Granger wouldn't be able to make it. Ron sat back in his chair, wondering why she couldn't have told him that before he ran out of a meeting—an important meeting—to make sure to be here on time. If she had even figured it out an hour before they could have cancelled.

"Well, I suppose it's just you and me today, Mr. Weasley," Yarbrough said in a friendly way. He stood and took his notepad, resettling in the chair that had been meant for Hermione.

"You don't need two people for couple's therapy?" Ron asked skeptically.

"There's always that aspect, but there's no reason you and I can't talk, is there?" Yarbrough asked. "Unless you have somewhere to be."

That meeting seemed like one that was going to go on for ages. Ron weighed his options, realizing he had already been excused today for however long he was here. He could spend half the time here and still take a long lunch if he wanted. Before George's offer, Ron might have hurried back to catch whatever he could. But now… now Ron was actually considering it. He found himself daydreaming and making lists of products to add to the shop and run by George. He started thinking of the barrier case the way George thought of it instead of investigating it anymore.

"No, I'm not in a rush," Ron said.

"So tell me how it's been," Yarborough asked, leaning his elbow against the arm of the chair and with his face against his fist.

"Until today? Better, actually," Ron said. "We've been dealing with a couple things and it's gone well."

"What happened today?"

"She didn't show up," Ron said incredulously. For a man who was supposed to be a doctor, he was rather dim. "Just like with everything else lately. I do what I have to so that things can happen when we agree they will and she just holes up at work."

"You think she doesn't try?"

"I think she gets sidetracked," Ron replied. "By good causes, sure, but she gets sidetracked."

"Do you think she sees your marriage as a good cause?"

Ron thought about this for a minute. "Sure," Ron said. "I mean, I hope so."

"You think it's a good cause?"

"Of course," Ron said. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't."

Yarborough nodded and seemed to be considering something. "So it's been better. Have you moved home?"

"Not yet."

"Why not?"

"I don't want to do that until we're sure this won't happen again," Ron replied. "This has been hard on Rose. Hugo, too, but more so on Rose."

"What do you think would make you sure?" Yarborough asked.

Ron shrugged. "Knowing we're on the same page, I guess."

Yarborough nodded and shifted in his chair. His smile stayed casual. Ron was surprised just how easy this man was to talk to.

"I'm curious about your work life, Ron," Yarborough changed topics. "Hermione is very involved. Do you find the same pressure from your own career path?"

"No, not really," Ron replied with a shrug. "I mean, it kind of all just came together. After the war Harry and I were both offered positions and we accepted. It's what I've been doing ever since. It's what I know."

"But you're not concerned with the possibilities of higher posts?"

"No," Ron said with an emphatic shake of his head. "No, this is about it for me at the Ministry."

Ron thought about mentioning George's offer. He had been dying to tell someone. Hermione and him were working through other things, though, and he didn't want to tell Harry unless he was turning in a resignation. But then it didn't seem right to tell a complete stranger before informing either of them first. Or at least giving them some inkling.

"What do you think of your job in conjunction to Hermione's?"

Ron let out a long breath, scratching the back of his head. "Well, I don't make as much money as she does."

"Does Hermione bring that up?"

"No," Ron said. In fact she had only mentioned his job one time. The one time that shot an arrow through his gut. "Not really."

"So you both make a decent salary—"

"Yeah, we do alright."

"—yet you're opposed to hired help."

"Not hired help, exactly," Ron said, feeling himself stiffen at the sense that this man might start in on how he should agree with Hermione. That he should give in. "Just a nanny."

"Why is that?"

"They'll be gone in seven years," Ron said. "Rose in five. They'll be gone most of each year. I want us to make the most with them."

"So they're at school most of the day now," Yarborough pointed out.

"See, but I can tell what would happen," Ron said, going down a path he wouldn't dare with Hermione. "We hire someone and it becomes an excuse to stay later and later. No matter what the initial intentions are, soon enough we could be those parents."

"What parents?"

"The parents who only see their children for an hour each night. The kind that don't read to them or play with them. I don't want that," Ron said.

"Were your parents ' _those parents'_?"

"Merlin, no," Ron said. "My mum raised us all. My dad… my dad would work full days—sometimes overtime—and still would come home and have time for us. They didn't have a pot to piss in at times, but there were seven of us kids and we never went without. That included not going without our parents' time."

It was something Ron could only fully appreciate once he was a parent himself. He never intended on having more children than he could reasonably support financially so they didn't feel like everything they had was second hand, but he gained new insight into the sacrifices and effort that had been made for him.

"You sound like you want to be that now," Yarborough observed.

"I can't think of anything better to be," Ron said proudly.

"Perhaps that's why your salaries seem to matter for you," Yarborough said. "Logistically, either of you could financially support your family. And being an Auror is not a job for layabouts. People work for years to achieve that position, some unable to qualify in the end."

"Yeah, well, when you're enforcing the laws your wife creates, no one thinks much about you," Ron said.

Yarborough gave a humoring grin.

"What about your family?" Yarborough asked. "You seem to have a great deal of admiration for your parents. What do they think of this whole separation situation?"

"They don't get it," Ron said. "I mean, they aren't the only ones that assumed I had done something wrong. Most people assume when a man has moved out it must mean he's cheating or that he's abandoning his family or whatever. They came around to wanting to help when they realized that's not what this all was. But no one in my family seems to have these kinds of problems. Just me."

Yarborough stood suddenly, walking to his desk, shuffling through drawers. He flicked his wand and a quill dipped itself in ink and started to write on a notepad on his desk.

"I'm going to give you an address," Yarborough said. He was practically bubbling with excitement. "There is a men's support group that meets weekly on Thursdays at 6:30. It's lead by a former client of mine. They gather, talk about their experiences, what's worked for them… I think it could help you."

"No offense, but that sounds kind of girly."

Yarborough simply smiled. "Well, think on it. If nothing else you can go see that there are lots of other people going through the same thing as you."

Yarborough held out the slip of paper to Ron. He looked at it, then reached out, taking it.


	8. Meetings and Meetups

_**Meetings and Meetups**_

Hermione came into the house and the kids ran to give her hugs and kisses. It was half past five and Ron sat on the floor in front of the coffee table with drawing paper and Rose's half completed homework scattered across the top.

"Go wash up for supper," she instructed and Rose and Hugo went off into the kitchen. "Ron, I'm so sorry. I was caught up in this meeting and—"

"And you didn't think it was important enough to leave," Ron said, his voice flat.

Hermione froze, her jacket half off. "No, I didn't say that."

"You do, though," Ron said. He let out a huff. "You know what, I don't want to talk about it."

"So you get to throw that out there and we're not even going to discuss it?" Hermione asked, shaking her coat the rest of the way off and walking towards him. She sunk onto the couch. "Ron, I really kept trying to get out. I thought I was just going to be a few minutes late. Then an emergency came up and I sent a message as soon as I could—"

"Emergency?" Ron scoffed.

"Yes, emergency," Hermione countered, standing her ground. "It couldn't be helped."

"It's funny how it _can't be helped_ when it's put up against something with me," Ron said. "I'm always next on the list."

Ron was gathering up his coat, shrugging it over his shoulders. Hermione felt a sudden panic, moving forward.

"You're right," Hermione said. "I should have just left. Please, don't go. I'm sorry."

Ron stopped, looking down at her. He didn't soften. "I have somewhere to be."

"Where?"

"A meeting," Ron said.

"Can you come back after?" Hermione asked. "I'll get the kids ready for bed and everything. We can read to them and then talk."

"Not tonight," Ron replied. "Rose! Hugo! Come give me a hug!"

Hermione grabbed a throw, folding it and placing it over the arm of the couch as Ron made extended goodbyes to their children. He made a point of telling them to listen to her and get to sleep when they were asked. They ran back into the kitchen after he issued these instructions and Ron turned towards the door. Hermione rushed, cutting him off in his path.

"I love you," she said, lifting a hand to his neck.

Ron let out a frustrated sigh and swallowed. He forced a small smile. "I love you, too."

Hermione lifted herself onto her toes, kissing him. He was still upset with her, returning the affection, but not the way he had lately. She watched as he walked out the door. She stood, shaking her head and taking a breath before going into the kitchen, pulling out food for dinner.

Hermione tried to pay attention to Rose as she told her about school that day. But she couldn't concentrate. All she could think was how she had screwed up again with Ron. Things had been going so well and she thought—she _thought_ —if she came in with a direct apology he wouldn't be upset. But she couldn't just remain apologetic. She just had to try and defend staying. Hermione felt sick throughout dinner. She tried to put it aside as she put Rose and Hugo to bed, reading a story for each of them.

"Mum," Hugo said after she tucked his blankets tightly around him.

"What, love?" Hermione asked, pausing just over him.

Hugo raised his hands to her cheeks, squeezing her face. "Don't be sad, Mum. I love you _this_ much."

He removed his hands, spreading his arms widely against the mattress and Hermione smiled. She sat on the edge of his bed, leaning over to kiss his forehead again.

"I love you, my Hugo," she whispered.

He turned over, but she just sat beside him, running her fingers up and down his back.

She had allowed the meetings to continue because if she hadn't she would have had to come home late. She hoped Ron would understand, but she shouldn't have made that assumption. After Hugo had been sleeping for a while, Hermione went down the stairs, pouring herself a glass of wine and pulling out her phone.

Her parents had a landline still. From what Hermione gathered from the other mums at Rose's school, this was highly unusual. She took a deep breath, dialing the number. It rung three times before her mother's voice picked up on the other line.

"Hello," Mrs. Granger said.

"Hi, Mum," Hermione said, the emotion rising in her voice almost immediately.

"Hermione! Sweetheart! How are you doing, love?"

"I'm okay," Hermione said. She swallowed, swirling the glass in her hand. Her mother stayed quiet for a moment.

"Are you sure?"

"No, I'm not," Hermione said with a little laugh. "Mum, I keep screwing everything up."

More silence as Hermione sniffed.

"I'll be over in fifteen," her mother said.

"Alright," Hermione replied.

* * *

Ron sat in one of the middle rows, slouching in his chair in hopes not to draw attention to himself. He got there ten minutes after it had started. He hadn't even intended to go that night. He wasn't sure he would go at all. But the more he thought about Hermione ditching him, the more angry he felt, and he just needed an excuse to not be there. He didn't want to be around and this was as good a reason to be out for the night.

Tomorrow he would see if the kids could spend the night at his flat to make up for it, but for now he was concentrating on avoiding eye contact of the dozen or so other men in the meeting. There was a shorter blond man ten to fifteen years older than Ron up at the front, opening the meeting. He had a shaggy sort of appearance—stubble and purposefully unkempt hair—but his clothes were well put together, wearing a suit jacket over a plaid shirt and denim jeans. He smiled, his front teeth large and crossed, but it had a friendly sort of appeal to it.

"Every week we go around and share a little bit about ourselves," he said. "My name is Calvin Jensen. I have been running the group for about four years. I am a wizard, though I am married to a muggle woman."

Ron thought this was an odd detail until they started going around and he learned that there were actual muggle men here. One, named Ralph, had a bit of a stutter. There was another newcomer named Quinton, and then it was Ron's turn.

"Er, Ron Weasley," he said. "I was just referred here. Wizard. And… yeah, that's about it."

"Welcome, Ron," Calvin said.

There were three or four other people, then Calvin had them all stand, pushing away the extra chairs, using his wand to circle their own around. Ron took his seat again, rubbing his palms against his trousers.

"Let's start with recent successes," Calvin said, leaning forward, his eyes lit with excitement.

Quinton talked about how him and his wife had gone a whole week without an argument. That he had made a point of listening and that she was more willing to open up as a result. Calvin lead the group in a round of applause for this before a mousy man named Xavier, mentioned his attempts to show his wife he cared through being more clean around the house. Somewhere in the back of Ron's mind he knew the applause and confession style was ridiculous. He would normally laugh at this, but he found he liked it. The way even the littlest marital success seemed to be celebrated and supported by the others. No one seemed to congratulate out of some insincere place. Soon he found himself just as enthusiastic as anyone else.

"Thank you, everyone," Calvin said. "Now, for those of you who are new, this next bit can be the more challenging one. You're welcome to share, but we open it up to talk about something that you have been struggling with. There is no judgement here, but we do open up the floor for feedback from one another. When suggestions are made, we ask that you don't get defensive. Just consider other possibilities."

Quinton started on this one, too. A large man broke down, talking about his problems drinking. He talked about scaring his daughter, only a year older than Rose, and how his ten year old son took her by the hand and they hid in the attic.

"I'm afraid Bethany is going to leave," he cried openly.

Ron just looked at him, surprised at how trivial his and Hermione's problems were in comparison. He nodded as someone reminded him it would require one day at a time. They talked about ways he could avoid drinking, but also where to turn to avoid his family seeing him this way. One man got tense with him, saying this would only change when he wanted it to.

Calvin talked about his own experience with this twenty years before. "You have to hit rock bottom," he told the man. "If this is it, then start pushing against it. Let that be your support. You have value and you have value to your children. Do it for them."

Everyone was silent, Xavier, patting his large, shaking shoulders.

"Ron, you've been fairly quiet," Calvin said.

"I'm just here to observe," Ron said, shaking his head.

"This is a participation sport," Calvin said. "Unless you're from the Prophet? You going undercover here?"

Ron laughed. "No, of course not," he replied. He licked his lips. What would happen if he told a group of strangers? How bad could it be?

Before he knew it, Ron found himself telling them everything about how him and his wife had started therapy. How she was always busy with work and he was so often put on the backburner. How their children were. Then he was talking about the nanny. How Hermione had done it when she knew how he was against it.

"But you both work?" Quinton asked. "For the Ministry?"

"Well, yeah," Ron said. "But we always have. We've always figured it out before. Even when Rose was in daycare young, we wouldn't have her there more than six hours a day if we could help it."

"And what changed?" Quinton asked.

"Well… she was promoted," Ron said. "She moved general jobs, but they also invited her to be part of the Wizengamot."

Everyone was silent for a moment. They looked surprised. Everyone except Ralph and the other two muggles, who probably didn't know what that was.

"She's part of the Wizengamot? How old is she?" Quinton asked.

"Thirty-two," Ron said.

"Is Hermione Granger your wife?" Xavier asked.

Ron blushed. "Yeah," Ron said. "That's her." He wondered what Hermione would think about him spreading their problems to a room of strangers.

"And you don't have a nanny?" Quinton asked incredulously. "I mean, you said you're an auror… how are you not kept late most days?"

"I'm not kept because I make sure I get out when I need to," Ron said. "I go in late to finish things up lately. But we used to share that. Now she just doesn't even try."

"I'm going to throw an idea out here," Calvin said. He had leaned back in his chair, stroking his chin. "Not having a nanny matters to you, yes?"

"Yes," Ron agreed.

"Then why does she have to compromise with her work positions to make that happen?" Calvin asked.

"Because they're both of our children," Ron said, feeling worked up.

"Right, but you do know that when both parents work, it's very typical to get childcare to cover whatever hours are worked, yes?" Calvin asked.

"Well, yeah," Ron. "So?"

"So, if it matters more to you to do something different than what's typical, don't you think _you_ should make that happen?" Calvin suggested.

Ron had never thought of it like that. He had always seemed that if one of them cared about something concerning Rose and Hugo, they should both take it on. But in Calvin's words seemed a different framework. Yes, he was the one that cared that one of them was with the children.

"Well, that's nice, but I get flack from co-workers about adjusting my schedule," Ron said, bringing up the other issue.

"Then you change to meet the circumstances you want your life to have," Calvin said. The more veteran men nodded as though they had heard this before. "That might mean looking for a position that gives you the salary you wish, the schedule you wish… it might mean allowing your wife to be the breadwinner of the family."

Ron scoffed at this idea.

"Being a family man doesn't just mean putting food on the table," Ralph interjected this time. "You get to define that much."

"My dad provided for all of us," Ron said. "I couldn't not at least contribute in some way."

"Then you find a balance," Calvin said. "And that might include your wife's adjustments, but historically women who sacrifice work for family never find the same success as a man who does the same. I think it's fair to consider other options than her risking where she has gotten."

Ron sat back. It was like ten different ideas had struck him at once. And the world opened up for what could happen. Answers that had been laid out for him clearly suddenly made sense. He had a hard time suppressing a smile as the next person talked, then the next.

As the meeting came to a close, Ron stood, ready to leave. Calvin stopped him with a quick greeting, shaking his hand and saying he hoped Ron would come again. "We meet every Tuesday and Thursday," he added.

"I think I will," Ron said. And he meant it. It was as much a revelation as anything else that evening. He smiled, hurrying from the building and apparating. He was on George's front step, knocking quietly, hoping he didn't wake up Fred.

Angelina cracked open the door first. "Ron," she said with a smile, opening the door wide.

"Is George home?" Ron asked.

Answering to his name, George appeared in the hall, stepping forward until he was cast under the light overhead. "What's up?" George asked.

"Is that offer still open?" Ron asked. He couldn't stop smiling.

George's smile widened as well. "Come in," George said. "We'll talk about it."

* * *

The papers in Hermione's right hand felt heavy as she weaved through her floor at the ministry towards the Auror department. She ran into Harry first.

"What the fuck is this?" she snapped.

Harry looked confused for a moment, then took the papers. Ron's resignation from the Ministry. Understanding donned his face, then he licked his lips. "I thought you knew," Harry said.

"Does it look like I knew?"

Hermione was furious. She had spent half the night with her mother, sobbing and telling her about every misstep. Her mother listened patiently, rubbing Hermione's back and giving words of encouragement.

"There's a time and season for everything, Hermione," her mother said. "Right now seems the time and season for your marriage and family. That might mean pulling back a little in other areas."

"You think I should quit?" Hermione asked for the second time in a conversation with her mum. It almost always seemed to head towards that conclusion.

"No," her mum said firmly. "I think it means putting your foot down and creating boundaries with your colleagues. Even when it's easier to allow conversations to impede on your time with Ron."

Hermione was thinking through this when she saw the paperwork on her boss's desk. She asked him, but he said it had just been passed along to him to approve. Right along the top was Ron's name and attached were papers for human resources to process the end of Ron's time at the Ministry by his final day in two weeks.

"Hermione, take a beat, alright?" Harry said.

"What's the plan, Harry?"

"I think you need to talk to Ron about that."

"You bet I will," Hermione snatched the papers.

"Hermione, maybe you should calm down first," Harry called after her as she entered the main area of cubicles.

She ignored him, moving fast, her hair bouncing behind her as she arrived at Ron's desk. He was eating a bagel while reading through something. She threw the stack of papers right on top. Tears were already stinging her eyes as she clenched her jaw. Ron turned up towards her, brows furrowed.

"Just tell me," Hermione said. "Is this—all this—just some insane midlife crisis?"

"Talk a little quieter, please," Ron said.

"I will not!" she said, louder than a moment before. "What is this all about?"

Ron stood and let out a breath, barely suppressing a smile. It pissed her off even more.

"George offered me a job," Ron said.

Hermione blinked. That wasn't what she was expecting. "As a shop clerk?" she asked. That would be a significant step down.

"No, full partner," Ron said.

Hermione took an unsteady step back. "What?" she breathed out.

"I mean, we both agreed we need a trial period. We don't want family drama if things don't work like we hope, you know," Ron said. "He's paying me a salary for the first year, then if we both think it will work out I'll stay on, splitting profits and all."

"What kind of salary?" Hermione asked.

"Twice what I get here," Ron said. "I mean, there won't be benefits, but I can cut back on some spending and pay for those and still save most of the extra. If we decide against it, that will give me a while to look for something new."

Ron smiled widely now. He was obviously excited about this change. Hermione felt lighter than she had walking in.

"That's amazing," she said.

"I'm sorry, I should have warned you," Ron said. "I wanted to put in my two weeks as soon as possible. I didn't think you would see it before I could talk to you toni—"

Hermione threw herself around Ron's neck. He caught her, stumbling back, then wrapped around her waist in return, kissing into the crook of her neck. Hermione pulled back, her hands still on his shoulders.

"Okay, well we need to celebrate," Hermione said. "Ron, that's amazing."

"The best part is I can make my own schedule," he said. "George said we can arrange any new shop openings for the summers. He was going to be opening one in Italy this summer. He said we can go together, so he can show me the ropes. We can make a family vacation of it."

"Yes, yes," Hermione laughed. "Well, tonight we'll go out. Anywhere you want to go. Just… wow."

Ron pulled her in again, kissing her. Hermione stayed close to him.

"I'm sorry about yesterday," she whispered. "I'll set up an appointment for next week, if that's okay."

"Yeah, that's great," Ron said.

"Okay, I better get back," Hermione said. She turned to leave. Ron held her hand until she had just stepped out of reach. She took three steps then turned back. Reaching over, she took the paperwork again. "I better put those back."

Ron smiled at her as she turned again.

Hermione smiled all the way back to her office. She smiled the whole day.

* * *

November had turned into December and life was evening out. Ron only had three days left in his old job and Hermione was encouraging in the evenings when Ron would spend his time meeting up with George, making plans. They spent the weekends together. And Hermione was glad for some time with Rose and Hugo. She was starting to feel like she was catching up with this part of life. Catching up when she hadn't known a couple months ago that she had gotten so far behind.

"Good job, Hugo!" Hermione said. The uneven letters of his name finished in his own hand. The G was backwards and the legs of the H were tilted in, almost like an A. "You are so brilliant!"

She kissed the top of his head. Rose was busy writing. Writing, writing, writing. It seemed that lately she did nothing else, though she didn't want to share it like she usually did either. If Hermione reached for it she would go wide-eyed and clamp her hands down over the top of the papers.

"Not yet!" Rose would shout.

"Alright," Hermione laughed at her.

Hermione was trying to not let the pressures of work seep in here. Especially in these moments. She wanted to be present. A time and a season, her mother had said. She took it to heart.

There was a knock on the door. Hermione moved Hugo from her lap to sit on the floor beside her. She pushed herself to her feet and walked to the door, opening it.

"George," Hermione said, surprised. He smiled at her with a nod. He was holding a box in his hands. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to bring by some things for Hugo and Rose to test out," George said.

"Come in," she said. "Where's Ron?"

"Search me," George said with a shrug.

"Uncle George!" Rose yelled, putting aside her pages and standing to run and hold onto his leg. Hugo wasn't far behind. "Look, Uncle George, I have a loose tooth!"

"Wow," George said. "You best be careful Hugo doesn't try and steal it and get the tooth fairy money all to himself. Maybe I'll take care of it, just in case."

George reached towards Rose's mouth and she squealed, stepping out of reach.

Hermione watched all this, but her mind was elsewhere. Ron said he had a meeting. He couldn't even stay for dinner. If he wanted space she would give it to him. They had done that for so many weeks now, she had to wonder… why would he lie to her? Her stomach dropped at the thought.

Hugo and Rose were going through the box. There were new exploding snaps and fake wands. There were invisible gloves and top hats. There was a deck of cards that, when a card was pulled, turned various features into animal transfigurations. Elephant trunks, cat claws, dog ears and so on. Rose and Hugo were laughing as they tested these out. As soon as they dropped any card, their own features would return and they would reach for another.

"Mum, pick one!" Rose laughed, holding out the cards.

Hermione pushed aside her wondering for a moment, pulling out a card and feeling her ears tingle. Rose and Hugo fell into belly laughs, George smiling along.

"Mum has bat ears!" Hugo got out.

Hermione laughed, glad to see her children so happy. If only she could get that bug out of her ear.

* * *

Hermione's parents wanted to take Hugo and Rose to a muggle film and Hermione needed some time to think. Ron was supposed to be doing research, but Hermione still wasn't sure what he had been doing the other night instead of meeting with George.

"What's wrong?" he asked her the night before.

"Nothing," Hermione lied, but she couldn't even bring herself to make it seem true.

Ron put a hand around her neck. "Hermione…"

"I'm fine," Hermione said. "I'm just stressed. From work."

Ron nodded apprehensively and they went back to playing with the kids. Later he asked if they could have a date that night. Hugo and Rose would stay with their grandparents for the night and Hermione would pick them up in the morning.

In the meantime, she needed to wander and think. Hermione went to an old shopping area in London she used to go to with her parents as a child. There was a dress shop. She looked for some new clothes: a dress for that night and some shirts to go under her work robes. She picked up some new things for Hugo and Rose as well. When she finished all possible errands, she headed towards what had always been her favorite bookshop, adjusting the bags hanging on her arms. She looked up from the end of the row of shops and froze. Attached to the bookstore was a cafe and sitting at the table just outside was Ron. He had a notebook and pen set beside a large mug, steaming. He was laughing and scratching the side of his head. And sitting across from him was Miss Ford.

Hermione stepped behind a column watching quietly. She felt her breath shortening as Miss Ford leaned forward, legs crossed. Ron said something and she rolled her eyes with a shrug. And then he smiled. The smile Hermione had loved more than any she had seen. The smile that wasn't tempered or tainted by anything. The smile that Hermione had always thought was hers. For several minutes, she couldn't stop watching. Couldn't move.

When she finally could, she rushed to an empty space and apparated home. She was glad the children were away as she broke down, curling up on her bed—their bed—and sobbed.

She didn't move as the sky darkened. One shuddering breath after another. She heard the door open and close and she still didn't budge.

"Hermione," Ron called out. "You ready to go?"

Hermione didn't reply. She stayed where she was, curled up and quiet.

" 'mione?"Ron said. He walked towards their bedroom. The door creaked open and he reached in, turning on the light. "You feeling okay?"

"Fine," Hermione muttered.

Ron moved into the room. She didn't look at him as he sunk onto the edge of the mattress by her. He reached out a hand, feeling her cheeks and pushing back her hair.

"What's wrong?"

Hermione bit the insides of her cheeks. She shook her head, not having words for what she wanted to say. She didn't have the energy to even yell. She just wanted to be alone. Hermione pulled away from Ron's touch.

"Hermione?" he asked again. "How about we do something here?"

"No," she finally said. She looked at Ron, who looked confused. _Good_ , she thought.

"What's wrong, Hermione," Ron said. "Last time I saw you everything was fine."

Hermione sat up. "Fine?" Hermione demanded. "Fine? You living in another apartment, changing our entire world upside down, that's fine?"

Ron blinked, then narrowed his eyes. "Are you upset because I took the new job? I thought you were happy about that?"

"You didn't even ask. You just went ahead and did it," Hermione said. She pushed herself around Ron, standing and walking out of their room. Ron followed as she grabbed the laundry basket, folding the clothes by hand.

"So the one time I do something that will open up our options and bring in more money, you get mad at me? After everything else?" Ron demanded.

"Just go!" Hermione snapped, turning on him.

Ron's mouth hung open, looking at her. "Hermione, I—"

" _Just go!_ " she screamed.

Ron shook his head at her, letting out an exasperated breath, and walked towards the door.

"Go!" Hermione shouted again.

The door slammed behind Ron. Hermione began to cry again, wiping at her nose as her chest felt like it was going to burst. She moved towards the door. On the side table she saw a book, wrapped up in the familiar blue and gold paper from the bookshop. She unwrapped it. The book was some novel. She opened the front. In Ron's handwriting on the inside cover was an inscription.

 _To my Hermione,_

 _May you always have a few extra hours for a good book._

 _Love, Ron_

She closed the front and threw the book across the room.


	9. Muggle Relations

_**Muggle Relations**_

Ron came by Sunday morning to pick up the kids and Hermione continued to avoid talking with him. At least with Rose and Hugo home, he couldn't get her alone. She didn't want details of when Ron had started seeing Miss Ford. Her heart ached for what this meant for her, but it ached more for what it might mean for Rose. Rose, who had struggled more than anyone the last couple months… Rose, who had pleaded to stay at the school because she loved Miss Ford… Hermione couldn't do anything that would hurt her daughter again. Not until she had solid proof. Yet everything that had seemed strange to her built into this awful narrative and she couldn't think of anything else. And she simply didn't want to know.

Hermione went to get Rose around two in the afternoon. Hugo was going to stay with Ron, but Rose and Hermione were meeting up with Melanie and her mum, Lana, at a park near Rose's school.

"What time did you want me to bring Hugo?" Ron asked tersely.

"By dinner," Hermione said. "You going to stay tonight?"

"Did you want me to?" Ron shot back quietly. Hermione saw his searching look and wondered when he had last given that look to someone else.

"We can talk about it later," she said.

Ron gave a tight nod and turned to Rose, giving her a hug and kiss before she took Hermione's hand and they were off. They took the Knight Bus and got there ten minutes or so before Melanie and Lana met them. Rose brightened as the girls went off to do their own thing and Lana sunk onto the bench beside Hermione.

"Oh, I'm so glad you were able to do this today," Lana said. "And no offense to your husband, but I'm glad it's you here."

"Oh, really?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, well, it always feels a little awkward sitting with a dad watching our children play," Lana said. "Don't ever get divorced. People will always think the worst of you."

Hermione looked at her, dumbfounded. She knew Lana was a single mum, but she hadn't ever been around her enough for a conversation regarding the fact.

"I'm sure not always."

"No, only when you're talking to even the most semi-attractive male. Then the word homewrecker arises. And, really, your husband's a pretty good sight for a ginger," Lana said with a half laugh. She looked over at Hermione and stopped. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by it. I have a tendency to say whatever I'm thinking and—"

"No, i-it's fine," Hermione said. She had met Lana once or twice before, but since Ron was the one that picked Rose up, he knew the other mothers better than Hermione. "I try to not make such broad assumptions."

"You're one of the few," Lana said, giving Hermione a conspiratorial smile.

Silence hung over them as they watched Melanie and Rose building something in the sand. Melanie was taking charge, which Hermione smiled at thinking this must be something new for Rose, who spent most of her life at home playing leader to Hugo's loyal minion.

"I do have to say, your husband makes most of the dads at the school look like complete slackers," Lana said. "The way he is with Rose and that boy of yours."

Hermione gave a half-hearted smile, looking over at her. "Yes, he's a great father," she said. She looked towards the girls. "That much I can vouch for."

"Trouble in paradise?" Lana asked, perking up.

"Something like that," Hermione said.

"If you need the name of a good divorce attorney, you just let me know," Lana said. Hermione was surprised she could sound so perky about something like that.

"I don't think we're there just yet," Hermione said. An image flashed through her mind of Ron sitting with Miss Ford. Her imagination began to fill in the woman leaning forward, her lips getting close to his.

"It's not a bad idea to be prepared," Lana said. She shifted on the bench, digging through her purse. "You can bet he will be. Even my asshole of a husband immediately tried to get custody of Melanie."

Hermione felt her skin go cold. She hadn't even considered all the repercussions of divorce. Not really. She hadn't even thought about the idea of losing Rose and Hugo.

"Ron wouldn't ever do that," Hermione said.

"That's what I thought about Chad," Lana said, now holding out a business card. "Thought it could be done civilly, but I'm telling you Hermione, every little thing will be held against you when the courts get involved."

"Like what?" Hermione asked.

"Like every time you leave the kids with family to do something for yourself. Or whatever financial ability he has over you."

"Well, until recently we basically made the same," Hermione said. "I maybe made a little more."

"And now?" Lana asked.

"He has a temporary arrangement," Hermione said. "A business venture with his brother."

"Sounds to me like he's getting his ducks in a row," Lana said with a shrug. "Just take the card. Hopefully you won't need it, but it's never a bad idea to have a professional you can talk to."

Hermione took the card. Carlyle Neubaur. Her heart pounded just holding this. It pounded harder as she slipped it into her pocket. They talked about other things—the class, other mums, and their work. Hermione was distracted and struggled to keep up with the muggle version of her job.

Towards the end of the hour, Melanie ran up to her mother, carrying a long stick in her hand.

"Mum, I want to get one of these," Melanie said.

She shook it and it turned into a large rubber chicken. Hermione's eyes widened, straightening. Rose stood just behind her friend, looking excited, her cheeks flushed from running around.

"What is it?" Lana asked.

"It's a trick wand," Melanie answered.

"Neat," Lana said as Melanie shook the chicken and it became a wand again. Hermione swallowed. "How does it do that?"

"One of my friends makes them," Hermione said. "Or did. I'll have to see if he still makes them."

"Do," Lana said. "I would love to buy one."

Melanie beamed at this news, handing the wand version back to Rose. Hermione turned her attention back to Lana, deciding that they would have to do this again before Christmas break. They hugged, as did the girls, and Hermione took Rose's hand as they walked away.

"Put that away," Hermione hissed under the breath.

Rose looked up, her smile fading as she put the fake wand away. They walked in silence, calling the bus again. When they got back to the house Hermione grabbed onto Rose's shoulders, turning her and getting down on her level.

"You cannot go showing wizarding things to muggles," Hermione said, shaking Rose with every other word. "You know better, Rose!"

"But she's my friend," Rose argued. Her voice was shaky.

"It doesn't matter, Rose," Hermione said, her own tone getting louder. "You cannot share these things with her, do you understand me?"

Rose's eyes filled with tears. Her lip trembled. "Why are you so mean?!" she shouted right in Hermione's face.

"I'm not being mean, Rose!" Hermione argued. "I'm telling you, you aren't allowed to do that sort of thing! Do you understand?"

"I hate you!" Rose shouted instead. Hermione's hands dropped with her heart. "I _hate_ you!"

Rose turned, crying, and ran towards the stairs. She stomped upwards and Hermione stayed right where she was, thinking about everything Lana had said. Hermione knew that if it were left up to Rose in this moment, she would choose to go with Ron in an instant.

* * *

Ron didn't stay for dinner. And he didn't stay on Monday night either. In the quiet moments of evening, Hermione found herself dialing the number on the card, then hanging up immediately.

"Don't," Hermione muttered to herself. "Don't do this to yourself."

On Tuesday, she had decided she needed to have a frank conversation with Ron. She needed to see if he would tell her exactly what was going on. Hermione was building herself up for it, even through lunch. Just after two in the afternoon, she was walking back to her desk when the main announcement board caught her eye.

There was a board in almost every department of law enforcement of different cases that groups were being sent on at any moment. Details would scroll beneath a map with blinking dots of persons involved. She narrowed her eyes, not sure she was seeing what she thought she was. There, in small lettering, were the crossroads where Rose's school sat. A single white dot blinked at her as colored dots were surrounding the place. Colored dots being ministry workers.

Hermione set her mug of tea on the nearest desk, rushing towards the exit while summoning her jacket from her office. Her arms shook as she shrugged the coat on, pressing the button for the lobby at the lift.

"Come on, come on, come on," she muttered, as though willing the lift to move faster.

Hermione didn't wait as the doors began to slide open, pushing herself through and making it to an apparition point. She found herself on the outside of a gathering crowd at a barrier. In the middle of meandering adults, moving in and out, was her little girl looking very small. Her hands were bound in green. Rose was cuffed and bound. Hermione pushed herself through the crowd.

"Let me through!" she shrieked. "That's my daughter, let me through!"

She pushed and shoved against bodies and the barrier, but could only pound against what was in front of her. Her hands hurt and her voice was going hoarse. The officials surrounding Rose and the two set at the barrier ignored her. And there was Ron, pushing through them, wand out and face red.

* * *

It was Ron's last day with the Ministry. There was a cake Kepler Jameson had brought in. She was one of the nicer young aurors and she smiled warmly at the compliments to her baking. They were all standing around Ron's desk when Harry came by.

"Ron, we need to go," he said.

Ron took a moment to switch gears, setting down his plate and excusing himself. "What is it?" he asked.

"Rose," was all Harry said as they moved towards the corner of the office where aurors were able to use Portkeys to go up and out and straight to their target area.

"What?" Ron asked, grabbing Harry's arm, turning him.

"The department heads all got a memo," Harry said, talking quickly. "There's been a breach of muggle secrecy and the location is Rose's school."

Ron felt the warmth leave his face as he stayed on Harry's heels. They got to the corner and Harry grabbed an old newspaper from one of the drawers, tapping it as Ron took hold as well and they were off.

As soon as they landed Ron felt every nerve on end. Rose stood, looking up at the adults around her, tears streaming down her face. He pulled out his wand.

"This isn't your jurisdiction," someone said to Harry, putting a hand on his chest. Ron ignored this rushing forward, his hand in a fist around his wand.

"You bloody bastard!" Ron shouted at the man who had hold of Rose's restraints. He pushed him back. "Off! Take them off!"

"We're following protocol!" he shouted back.

Ron grabbed him by the front of his robes. The man was fairly short so that when Ron pulled at him, he was left standing on his toes.

"Now," Ron growled.

"Since when is it protocol to restrain a six year old?" Harry argued from behind him. "Do it."

"But if I—"

"We will take it from here, let her go," Harry said, much more calmly than Ron, but with just as much gravitas.

The man looked between the two, obviously having an internal debate about whether his job was worth all this. He swallowed and with a swish of his wand, Rose's hands were free. Ron dropped him and scooped her up immediately.

Ron held her up with one arm, his other hand holding the back of her head as Rose gripped his neck like a vice, crying into his neck.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," Rose said. "I'm sorry! I was showing Melanie the animal cards and Katie came and took one…"

"It's okay, sweetheart," Ron said. "It will all be okay."

His heart was still going a mile a minute.

"Ron!" someone called to his right.

He turned, seeing Miss Ford standing there, eyes wide with panic as another ministry officially was tugging on her arm.

"Ron, my aunt… my aunt is a witch," she said. "Please, don't let them change my memory!"

Ron looked to Harry and he moved forward, talking down someone else as Ron continued to sway with Rose, whispering that she was safe over and over again. He looked over to the crowd, seeing Hermione at the front, pressed against the invisible barrier. Her eyes were as wide as Rose's had been, her hands flat against the spell keeping her back. He moved in her direction. There were two people guarding the barrier.

"Let her through," Ron said.

"Who do you think you are?" a snotty woman asked.

"Let her through," Ron said. "Or I will get my superior over here to make you do it."

Everyone had witnessed this twice already now. She pursed her lips, but waved her wand as Hermione stumbled passed the others.

"Rose!" she shouted. "Rose, are you okay?"

Rose reached for Hermione and Ron let her go, petting her hair a few times as Hermione knelt on the ground, holding Rose to her, rocking her back and forth as Rose stuttered out what had happened again.

Ron moved towards Harry, who had Miss Ford next to him. "So your aunt?" Ron asked.

"I know a few people like you," Miss Ford said with a nod. "I had… wondered about Rose. After a couple things. They were at play and something happened. Katie was screaming. There were all these people and they froze us all. Is everyone else going to be alright?"

"Yeah, they will be," Ron said with a sigh. "They'll just have their memories modified. Sure you don't want yours to be, too?"

"No," Miss Ford said with a sigh. "Knowing that Rose… well what she can do… I can be of more help. Is there anything I can do?"

She reached out, putting a kind hand on his arm. Ron let out a breath, looking back at Hermione and Rose. "No, I think we just need to chat with her."

"Well, thank you," Miss Ford said. She leaned forward, wrapping her arms around Ron's neck. "I was really worried they were going to make me forget."

"Yeah," Ron said, patting her back. "Thank you for keeping an eye on Rosie."

Miss Ford straightened and nodded. She turned and headed back towards the school. Ron turned back and Hermione had been looking at him. She turned away, biting her bottom lip before she pulled Rose back, running her thumbs along her cheeks, wiping away tears.

* * *

They took Rose home, sat her down, and talked about why she wasn't allowed to take wizard things to school, even to show her friends. Hermione was more calm than Ron had expected, holding one of Rose's hands as she kept asking questions about what had happened. Rose had cried a hundred apologies, most of them to Hermione, which made more sense to Ron when he realized this wasn't the first time she had taken a joke shop item to show Melanie.

Eventually, Ron went to get Hugo and brought him home. They sent both to play upstairs and Ron wiped a hand down his face. It was a more eventful last day than Ron had anticipated. And not even by way of normal work. He would need to go in that night and tie up the last files to be reassigned.

"Why didn't you tell me this had happened before?" Ron asked.

Hermione visibly bristled. "It was just this Sunday," she said.

"And?"

"And I talked to her about it," Hermione said.

"Apparently she didn't understand, did she?"

"I'm doing the best I can!" Hermione shouted at him.

"How about telling me what's happening? Then I could have at least checked her bag for something like that before taking her to school," Ron said. "Or talked to her about why she couldn't take those things to school."

"Because you're going to say something that I didn't," Hermione replied sarcastically.

"No, but I'll probably do it without screaming like a banshee at her!"

Hermione stopped in the tracks. Her eyes filled with tears and her bottom lip quivered.

"Hermione?" Ron asked, uncertain as to what just happened.

She dropped the rag in her hand and marched out of the kitchen without another word. Ron stood there, trying to make sense of her reaction, but he couldn't. He went up the stairs, watching Rose and Hugo play. As it got later, he made dinner. Hermione still didn't come out of their bedroom. He left a plate out for her and got the kids dressed and ready for bed.

After he tucked them in, Ron stood on the other side of the door to their room. He thought about what he could say. They had already reversed any progress they had made and he couldn't think of how it had happened. At the last support group meeting, he brought up the night Hermione had yelled at him. He admitted he probably should have run the new job by her first, but that she hadn't seemed upset when she learned about it.

"Sometimes people get mad at what's easier to handle because what they're really angry with is too hard to deal with," Ralph said after explaining something similar that had happened with his wife a while back. "Sometimes you have to just be quiet and listen until the truth comes out."

But Ron didn't know how to listen when she wouldn't even talk. And it hurt. So he turned and walked out, apparating back to the Ministry to finish up the last of his work there.

Ron's first day as a co-owner of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was tainted by an article about the incident the day before. Rose was mentioned, though not named, but both Hermione and he were called out. The journalist suggested that Rose might be rebelling against her mother's strangling view of muggle relations and insinuated Ron's departure from the auror department might have something to do with the events of the day. If they could keep Rose from knowing this side of the incident, Ron would feel successful. It was about all the success they had left in their control.

"Sorry the company's name got dragged through that," Ron said. The deck of cards that had been the issue were discussed as well.

"Are you kidding me?" George said. "If it doesn't triple those sales, I will eat my own shoe."

Around eleven, Ron got an owl from Harry, asking if he wanted to meet up at the Leaky Cauldron for lunch. He responded back the word _YES!_ And continued going through the bookkeeping information George had in the office. Every bit of serious work was punctured at random by ideas for new or improved products. Ron grabbed a notepad, starting up a list of these as they came up.

At half twelve, Ron went to the pub, where Harry had already got a table for the two of them.

"Sorry your last day was so crazy," Harry said. "I was hoping you'd at least get a decent send off."

"It's alright, mate," Ron said.

"I'm going to miss having you there," Harry said with a sigh. "I know it hasn't been the same as when we started, but I liked at least getting to chat, you know?"

"Yeah," Ron said with a grin. "I do."

"How's Rosie doing?" Harry asked, then dug into his roast.

"She's shaken up," Ron said. "You saw the article?"

Harry nodded solemnly. "That Caldwell Jesters is an ass," Harry said. "Just as bad as Skeeter, if you ask me."

"Yeah, I'm hoping it doesn't give Hermione too many problems at work, though," Ron said. It was the other thought besides whether Rose would find out about it. Ron may have been mentioned, but the article was a scathing criticism of everything she had fought for since joining the ministry.

"I checked on her. Seems the difference between Skeeter and Jesters is that he's not the Ministry's darling the way she was. No one pays much attention to it," Harry said.

"She's still likely to get some nasty owls," Ron said. They both knew it was true. People thrived on having something to be indignant about and this was going to be the latest for a bit. Misstated or not, people thinking Ron had been fired would likely spare him as they would feel he had already gotten his comeuppance.

"How are things going?" Harry asked. "With counseling and all that?"

Ron didn't know where to start. "Hermione's not happy with… something," Ron said. Harry tilted his head. "She's angry with me about something and I can't get her to tell me what."

"That's odd," Harry said. "I remember her being ridiculously articulate when she was mad."

"Yeah," Ron said. "I don't know, Harry. I just wish I could figure out what's going on in her head, you know? Because now every time we get into other things, I'm just mad that she won't talk to me and it makes it worse."

"You two bringing the kids for Christmas Eve at our house?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, I think so," Ron said. "Hermione might be spending Christmas Day with her parents, so I think that will be my time with Rose and Hugo."

Harry sat back and let out a breath. Ron could only nod. Without a word, he knew exactly what Harry meant.

* * *

Hermione had gone into research mode. Whenever Ron had Rose and Hugo or at night after they fell asleep, she would read as much as she could about the divorce laws in England. From what she could tell, wizarding and muggle laws stayed fairly consistent in this area. Where she had been excited for Ron taking a job where he had a chance to shine, she now saw the potential for him to avoid child support or claim that he could support them better from a financial standpoint. He could easily argue his own ability to spend more time with them with his new schedule, whereas Hermione would need to provide childcare if she had custody. Then there was everything that happened at Rose's school. The article painted her as the oppressive parent, forcing her child to attend a muggle school to prove a point. Would that be brought into a divorce hearing?

She spent hours one night, going between Rose and Hugo's room, watching them sleep and wondering how she could possibly live through losing them. She didn't even have time to mourn the thought of losing Ron. He rarely stayed around anymore once she was home.

Around the twentieth of December, Ron mentioned that Harry and Ginny were hoping they would all come Christmas Eve.

"Are you alright with that?" Ron asked.

"Yes," Hermione answered. "I want to take the kids to my parents on Christmas Day, though."

"Okay," Ron said easily.

Hermione spent hours wondering if there was an angle to letting them go on a holiday so easily.

On the morning of the twenty-fourth, Hermione helped Rose and Hugo wrap their presents for the cousins and Ron, and was braiding Rose's hair when Ron came through the door.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Almost," Hermione shouted. She had hoped to have everything together. Hermione had been trying her best to not rely on Ron to help with anything. But then he was here and things needed to be done. "Can you help Hugo get changed?"

She heard Ron on the staircase and turned back to Rose's hair.

"When I'm done here, you need to pack an overnight bag," Hermione said.

"Are we staying at Aunt Ginny and Uncle Harry's?" Rose asked.

"No, we're going to Grandma and Grandpa Granger's."

"Will Daddy come with?" Rose asked.

"Not this time," Hermione replied.

"Then I want to go with Daddy," Rose said.

Hermione tied off the bottom of the braid, making herself take a few deep breaths before talking to Rose. "Not tonight, sweetheart," she said. "Grandma and Grandpa are going to be so happy to see you."

Even to Hermione, her own voice sounded tight, but she hadn't yelled. She hadn't snapped. Rose didn't argue back as Hermione pulled out her suitcase and left her to finish.

Hermione went down the stairs to pack her own overnight bag and finish getting ready. She was just putting on earrings when she went into the kitchen, where Ron stood by a brewing pot of coffee.

"Is Hugo ready then?" she asked. She turned to him and Ron didn't answer. His jaw was clenched and he was focused on her. "What?"

Ron raised a business card between his two fingers. Carlyle Neubaur's business card. Hermione swallowed and raised her chin, her mind reeling through excuses as to why she would have that.

"When were you going to tell me?" Ron asked, his voice low. Hermione looked towards the kitchen door, then back at Ron.

"When there was something to tell," Hermione said. The truth, she decided, the truth was the best way to approach this. "Lana gave it to me. I haven't called and wasn't planning on it."

"But you kept it," Ron said, moving closer to her.

"Now you get to say which business cards I'm allowed to keep?" Hermione snapped. Any patience she had practiced with Rose was gone.

"Why would you unless you were planning to use it?" Ron asked. "Merlin, Hermione! You won't even talk to me! I've been doing everything to be here and be present and you've just been planning to end things all along?!"

"I have not!" Hermione said. She cleared her throat, lowering her voice. "And present? You're the one who left, Ron. You're the one who walked out."

"To avoid saying anything else we would both regret."

"And so you'd have a cozy little bachelor pad to carry on with other women," Hermione said. Her cheeks warmed, but she felt satisfied at finally having out with it. The way he had been so tender, even in front of her and Rose, with Miss Ford had messed up Hermione for days. It was hard to say whether the backlash from the article or that moment had been more difficult for her.

But here Ron stood, blinking at her.

"Other women?" Ron asked.

"Don't do that," Hermione said. "At least don't lie to me about it! I saw you!"

Ron shook his head back and forth. "Have you gone mental?"

Hermione scoffed, turning towards the refrigerator.

"No really," Ron said. "Have you completely lost it? Other women? Who did you see me with?"

"You tell me, Ron," Hermione said. "I think that after ten years of marriage you could at least do me that favor."

Ron stood, mouth agape and speechless. He opened his mouth when Hugo walked into the door. He closed it and moved to zip up Hugo's backpack and adjust a pile of toys in his hands.

"You can only take a few of these," Ron told him. "Lily will have plenty to play with."

The argument ended as Ron stood with Hugo at the hearth, taking the floo to Harry and Ginny's.

"I want to go through on my own," Rose said. Hermione nodded, letting her take a handful of powder.

Hermione seriously considered staying behind and picking Rose and Hugo up later. Instead, she took her own handful of powder and threw it in, following behind Rose and landing to a flurry of happy sounds that did not match her mood after the argument with Ron.

Ginny came up and gave her a tight hug. Her smile faded as she pulled back.

"What's wrong?" Ginny asked.

Hermione pushed back the tears threatening the family gathering, shaking her head side to side.

"Harry," Ginny said. "Why don't you and Ron take the kids to the hilltop to go sledding?"

"Yeah! Let's go!" James shouted enthusiastically.

Everyone ran around, finding coats and gloves as Harry pulled out a few sleds, fixing them up with a few waves of his wand. Ron had Hugo on his shoulders and Rose holding his hand as Ginny stepped over with a black and grey scarf, pulling it around Harry's neck.

"I'll get lunch ready," Ginny said, standing on her toes to kiss him.

Hermione looked away, not wanting her own bitter thoughts to wander where they were already headed. Harry wrangled his three and they were shouting down the yard and to the street, turning left just outside the gate.

"Teddy and Andromeda are coming in a couple hours," Ginny said, bustling around for mugs of hot apple cider, setting one in front of Hermione. "Now, what's going on?"

Hermione just shook her head again. "I can't," she choked out. "It's Christmas and I just can't."

Ginny put a hand over hers, nodding kindly and sitting there as Hermione covered her face and cried. The cider was cold before Hermione gathered herself.

"I just have to be here for the kids," Hermione said. "I just can't let things get to me."

"Well, when you're ready to chat," Ginny said. "You sure you can be here with Ron, too?"

So it hadn't been lost on Ginny. Not that Hermione had expected it to be. Hermione nodded. "I can."

* * *

Ron caught Albus as he went flying from Harry's spell. He grunted, taking the hit. Albus laughed and ran off to get in line at the top of the hill again. Over and over for the better part of an hour they played with their children. When they finally called it quits and started heading back, the kids all ran ahead and Harry lagged behind with Ron, carrying the three sleds between the two of them.

"So, what happened now?" Harry asked.

Ron knew it had been obvious. He hadn't ever been good at masking his own anger.

"She's talking to a divorce lawyer," Ron said.

"What? Since when?"

"Well, she said she hasn't actually called," Ron replied. "But she started on me about my flat being some place to bring women."

Harry stopped. "Why would she think that?"

"Search me," Ron said. "She hasn't talked to me and now…"

"Don't give up," Harry replied.

"Can you see any reason not to?" Ron asked. He turned to face Harry. "Really, Harry, can you? You keep telling me not to give up, but she doesn't seem to care if I'm around or not. Not really."

"You know that's not true," Harry said. "You know she's glad you're around for the kids—"

"Yeah, but not for her," Ron said. "I feel like the sign is on the wall."

Harry looked uncertain, but Ron couldn't find a way around it. Especially if Hermione was now fabricating some sort of affair to which he apparently wasn't privy to.

"At least if I was seeing other women, I'd have a bit of company," Ron scoffed, turning back and walking down the hill. The kids were all well ahead of them now.

"You don't mean that," Harry said.

"No, I don't," Ron replied.

When they got back, Hermione was stiff towards him, but pleasant enough for the children. They continued with holiday activities—decorating the tree, making cookies, dancing around to the wireless. Albus, Rose, and James went wild when Teddy showed up and Albus challenged Ron to a game of chess.

After a nice dinner, Ginny suggested they open presents that night, since Hermione and their children would be leaving. Rose and Hugo had gotten Ron picture frames, having drawn in each. Ron enjoyed watching them open their own gifts; a journal for Rose and several Weasley Wizard Wheezes products that Hugo had been drooling over and Ron hadn't allowed him to get yet.

Then Hermione was opening Rose's gift to her. Ron's mood took a downturn. He watched, biting the insides of his cheeks as she pulled off the paper and stopped, her brows knit before she started again.

"What is this?" Hermione asked.

"Daddy helped me!" Rose declared.

She stood up and opened the cover. It was familiar and neglected. Perhaps an apt way to describe their marriage.

"What is it?" Ginny asked.

"The book Ron made when he proposed," Hermione said, her voice strained and soft. Rose continued to turn pages for her.

"I wrote more!" Rose said. "I wrote about when I was born and Hugo and everything we do together and everything!"

"I helped with some pictures," Hugo said.

Rose had brought the idea to Ron after finding the book a while before. She had diligently written, asking Ron questions and writing it in her own six-year-old way. He helped her attach them in with the old portion of the book. Helped her wrap it. Hermione's eyes were glazed with tears and Ron thought that perhaps for the first time in a while, it might be for a good reason.

"Thank you, love," Hermione said. "I love it."

She reached out, pulling Rose into a hug, the book pushed on her lap between them. She gave a side glance to Ron, but there was no other recognition to his part. Not a smile, not a word.

* * *

 **A/N:** Just a couple things here today! First, I want to say a word in defense of Hermione (and people going through these kinds of situations) before anyone reviews. Her reaction to what Lana says and new concern about custody is one I've seen played out by dear friends. I've seen their ex-spouses try and use really terrible things against them (often unfounded or twisted) and I've seen that fear develop in the most irrational ways. I have a friend who is worried that by having her ex or his new wife watch her daughter when she doesn't have someone else to do so (when she's working for instance) that they might someday use that to limit my friend's time with her daughter. I think most caring parents get a little crazy when presented with the possibility of losing their child in any way.

Second, I do reply to people who are logged in, but I have a couple reviewers (regular ones) who have PM turned off. I wanted to reply to one of these replies because they had a couple good questions that I did indeed consider and think it might be a good thing to answer in general. Question 1: why was Hermione glad Ron was quitting?

Hermione was mad at first because it was out of left field (he hadn't mentioned the offer even) and she thought that this was some sort of dismantling of Ron's own life. Regardless of whether or not she can provide financially, they're a 2 income household and one of those going away would significantly change things. Ron's the one that cares about the money in a larger fashion (he's the one that keeps mentioning that in the meetings and in these moments). Hermione becomes happy when he says this because it's an opportunity for him and it's a good one. She's shocked, but immediately realizes this will make him happy. (So yay! Hermione's not a complete bitch!) From a writing perspective, she would have been just as happy about it had he told her first, but it gave me the chance to give her something she could throw back at him instead of addressing any real issues.

Second question was whether the people would recognize Ron or why they didn't seem to. First, I have a theory about the chocolate frog cards that perhaps the more popular current wizards are easier to find. I had in my head that there's probably one or two guys in the crowd that know who he is or whose kids have his card, but he also hasn't done anything noteworthy or significant since. I think his personal life has been fairly protected from this as well and that very few people bother to dig into Hermione on that level either. Hermione, on the other hand, would have recently been in the news for her legislation, her promotion, and the remarkably young age at being invited to the Wizengamot. Even then, I think there are a couple people that heard she was in that and just thought "is he married to someone older" whereas the man who asked if it was Hermione he was married to actually follows politics.

Hope that clears a couple things up at the very least! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter!


	10. Self-Fulfilled

_**Self-Fulfilled**_

Ron and Hermione had gone back to being painfully polite to one another. To make sure Ron couldn't claim she was being unfair with Rose and Hugo, she brought them to his flat after Christmas Dinner with her parents. When her mother asked how things were going, she said the same thing she had to Ginny: she couldn't talk about it.

Just after the new year, Hermione had her assistant keep a morning clear so she could take Hugo and Rose to school, requesting that she was put as the first point of contact if it was needed. The staff was obliging and she was able to get to work shortly after.

The following Friday, Ron had requested Rose and Hugo spend the night with him. "I have a room ready for them," he said. "Got beds and everything."

Another step in solidifying life in his own place. Hermione agreed and decided to spend her free evening stopping by some of her favorite muggle places from her childhood. She would perhaps get tickets to take the kids to some of them the next week. She had visited Parliament and walked through a few rooms of The British Museum. Rose would like that one, Hermione thought. She would have to remind both of them not to bring any attention to them not being muggles there, but it was about time she introduced them to what her own upbringing had been like in this way.

Hermione browsed through a museum guide as she walked towards the street when she saw someone waving at her. Her attention shifted to her right and she was shocked to find Miss Ford—in jeans and a t-shirt, wearing a cap and smiling at her. Hermione stiffened as she came over.

"Mrs. Granger! So lovely running into you," Miss Ford said.

"Going to the museum?" Hermione asked. She was trying to maintain a strong, unperturbed demeanor. She couldn't make a scene. Not here, with people bustling all around them.

"Yes, I'm submitting a proposal to do a field trip here with the class in a month or so," Miss Ford said. "Don't say anything just yet, though. I'm hoping to surprise the students once it's all official."

Hermione's face burned thinking that Miss Ford was going to try and take away her chance to show this to Rose. She would definitely bring her daughter here before any such field trip.

"I've actually been wanting to catch you," Miss Ford said, lowering her voice. "Wanting to talk to you, that is."

Hermione braced herself. She grit her teeth. She knew—she _knew_ —Ron wouldn't tell her if something was really going on. While everything had been cracking in her life, she was terrified that the next words were going to shatter it irreparably.

A dark skinned woman sidled up to Miss Ford as she opened her mouth to speak again, grabbing her hand. Miss Ford turned as the woman stood on her toes, giving her a kiss. Hermione blinked.

"Hi, babe," the new arrival said. "They were all out of your favorite."

Miss Ford groaned. "Oh, well. Thanks anyway," she turned back to Hermione. "Sorry, this is my girlfriend, Lakshmi. Lakshmi, this is the mum to my student who's a witch. The one I was telling you about, whose dad reminds me of my older brother."

"Hermione Granger's daughter is in your class?" Lakshmi exclaimed. "You didn't say that."

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" Hermione asked, all other words having escaped her entirely. There was something vaguely familiar about the woman.

"No, but I think anyone with any sense knows who you are," Lakshmi said. "Besides, my cousins Padma and Parvati remember you. And, who was your husband... that Weasley…"

"Ron," Miss Ford said.

"That's right," Lakshmi replied. "My cousins have told us how him and Harry Potter were the worst dates they ever had."

"Really?" Miss Ford asked with a laugh.

"You're… dating a witch?" Hermione asked, confused.

"Melissa's aunt introduced us," Lakshmi answered. "She went to Hogwarts. Muggleborn. We work together at Gringotts."

"Oh," Hermione said stupidly.

"Anyway, I just wanted to say how sorry I am about everything that happened," Miss Ford said. "They got there so quickly and I was frozen, but I just feel terrible about how they handled Rose."

"Thank you," Hermione said. "I'm… I'm sorry, I have somewhere to be."

"Terribly sorry to keep you!" Miss Ford said enthusiastically.

"Nice to meet you," Lakshmi called after her as Hermione rushed away.

Hermione had planned to see one or two more places before they closed in a couple hours. She had heard rumors about a wizarding section of the Tower of London, but she couldn't concentrate now. She moved in a haze, taking the underground by default as everything she saw just sunk in, unraveling weeks of spite and anger. Hermione felt something she had rarely experienced in her life. She felt like a complete idiot.

When she finally came to her senses, she apparated, knocking on Harry and Ginny's front door. James answered the door, jumping up and down when he saw her.

"Aunt 'Mione!" he shouted. "Where's Rose? I got the _coolest_ Quidditch kit for Christmas to show her!"

"She's not here," Hermione replied numbly. Harry stepped up behind his oldest, a smile on his face as he set a hand on James's shoulder.

"This is a nice surprise," Harry said. "I was just putting the kids down."

Hermione looked at him, unable to hold back her desperate pressing of lips and pleading eyes.

"James, let's get you to bed," Harry said.

"But Aunt 'Mione just got here!" James argued.

"We're meeting your mum for the games she's covering in the morning and you need sleep," Harry prodded, guiding James around and gesturing for Hermione to come in. "Off to bed. You too, Al."

Albus had just appeared in the doorway between the hallway and sitting room. He gave a quick smile to Hermione, which she tried to return, and followed the guidance of Harry's other hand moving him down and towards their bedrooms as well.

Hermione wandered the sitting room, looking at photographs. She stopped at one of her, Ron, Ginny, and Harry at their wedding. Ron pulled her close in her bridesmaid's dress and kissed her cheek. She held a bouquet in her hand, shooting him a coy look, then looked over at Ginny, sharing a conspiratorial laugh. She ran her finger along the top wondering how they had ever been like that before. It seemed so foreign to who they were now and, once again, it was on Hermione.

"Ginny's not here," Harry said unnecessarily. "She's got games all weekend. She got a hotel room so she can concentrate and get her writing done in between matches. Want a drink?"

"Yes," Hermione accepted quickly.

Harry waved his wand and two bottles flew to them. Hermione popped the top of her own and took a couple gulps, sinking onto the couch—the same spot where she sat when opening the gift from Rose—and bounced her knees.

"What's up?" Harry asked.

"He wasn't cheating on me," Hermione said.

Harry blinked for a minute. "He said you thought that. Why?"

Hermione supposed she shouldn't be surprised that Ron would have talked about it with Harry. The only reason she hadn't talked to Ginny about it yet was because she knew she didn't have proof yet. Nothing solid, despite using it to have a leg up in her argument against Ron. She regretted ever saying it before she knew, now.

"I saw him with Rose's teacher," Hermione said. The floodgates were opening. She wiped her eyes with the bottom of her jacket sleeve. "At my favorite muggle bookshop. They had seemed on particularly good terms in the past too," she added, hoping that Harry would see it wasn't a completely unfounded concern.

Harry just leaned forward, stroking his chin with narrowed eyes. "You mean when he went to get you a book from there," Harry said.

"How did you—"

"He told me about asking your parents directions. He was going to get a recommendation from a shopkeeper and surprise you," Harry said.

It was just getting worse and worse for Hermione. What were the chances, though, that Miss Ford would frequent that exact shop at the exact time that Ron happened to be there? At the exact moment she would have thought to go there herself? Whatever they were, they weren't in her favor. She wiped her eyes again.

"So he finally convinced you there was nothing there?" Harry asked.

"I ran into her," Hermione said. Harry was waiting for the punchline. "With her girlfriend."

"Oh," Harry said. "I see."

"What's wrong with me, Harry?" Hermione cried.

"Nothing, really," Harry said with a sigh. "You're just wound up so much, Hermione. And, well—"

"Well what?"

Harry took a drink, buying himself some time as Hermione steeled herself. Her mother's advice had helped in small measures, but she still felt so lost.

"You know that Ron isn't the same as he was at Hogwarts, right?" Harry asked.

"Of course I know that," Hermione snapped.

"Because sometimes you talk to him like you're still the one who has everything together and has to drag him along," Harry said. Hermione stiffened. "Ginny's noticed it, too."

"Like when?"

"Like when you're trying to get Rose and Hugo ready to go somewhere," Harry said. "You start to issue orders and honestly he usually has those things done already."

Hermione's face warmed, but she sat there. She had asked. Harry was only telling her what she had asked.

"And this whole thing with thinking he was seeing someone else… it's not like it was back then. He's not going to just go snogging other women because he's brassed with you," Harry said. "And the silent treatment… it's just not going to work. I mean, honestly Hermione, why are you here talking to me about this?"

"I need to sort this in my head before—"

"Ron's the one you should be sorting it with," Harry cut her off. "You know we love you, but if you just keep going to everyone else to do your sorting, how do you ever expect to get through this with him?"

"He's never going to hear me out," Hermione cried.

"Try him," Harry prodded. "I think he's more willing than you're giving him credit for."

"What has he told you?" she asked.

"I'm not going to go into that," Harry said. "And I wouldn't tell him what you vent here either. Not unless it was really big, but it's not going to help either of you if I just feed you each what the other doesn't want to build themselves up to say."

Hermione nodded solemnly. "You're right," she said.

"Either way, you have to stop jerking Ron around," Harry added. "It's really making things harder on him."

They just sat there for a while before Hermione excused herself and apparated home. She was going to talk to him tomorrow.

* * *

Hermione grabbed a box of Ron's favorite donuts on her way to his flat. When she knocked on the door, Ron opened it and furrowed his brow.

"I thought I had them until one," Ron said.

"You do," Hermione replied. "I mean, you can have them longer if you want. I wanted to come talk… with you…"

"Mum!" Hugo shouted, darting out like a bullet and tackling her leg.

She hugged him and kissed the top of his head before looking back up at Ron for a reaction. He licked his lips, then opened the door wider, allowing her to come in. Rose came up to give her a hug as well, each taking a donut before Ron told them to go play in their new room.

"Figure out what kind of shelves you want in there, Rosie," Ron said.

"I'll be the designer, you're going to be the builder," Rose informed Hugo as they walked down the hall.

Ron sunk into a chair at a small informal dining room table. The place was looking more complete since the last time Hermione had been there. The sitting room was painted a muted blue, there were pictures hanging, and Ron seemed to have bought new dishes and cookware for the small kitchen.

"Did you want one?" Hermione asked.

"I'm alright," Ron said, refusing the donut.

Hermione swallowed, folding her hands in front of her. "I know you weren't seeing anyone," she said quietly. She looked up at Ron and he was watching her, his face emotionless.

"Finally worked it out for yourself?" Ron said, his voice as blank as the rest of his face. "I mean, it wasn't enough for me to say there wasn't anything going on with whoever, so what finally made you believe it?"

It was so much more difficult admitting her blunder to Ron than it had been to Harry. "I just did," she said.

"So do I finally get to know who I supposedly shagged?" Ron asked. "Or is that left up to the imagination?"

"I thought… I saw you with Rose's teacher and—"

"Miss Ford?" Ron asked incredulously.

"Yes," Hermione said, her face burning. She looked down at a spot on the table just in front of Ron.

"Wow," Ron said simply.

Hermione looked up at him again. His eyes bore into hers, but she held his gaze. "I'm sorry," she said.

"You know, that word's been said a lot the last couple months."

"You're not making this easier," Hermione said.

"I could say the same," Ron said. He leaned forward against the table. "You tell me I've been unfaithful and now I'm supposed to just… this isn't some row over dishes, Hermione."

"I know," Hermione said.

"So what do you want?" Ron asked.

"I want to start with Dr. Yarbrough again."

Ron scoffed. "You mean, the couple's therapy you stopped scheduling a month ago?"

"Yes," Hermione said meekly.

"I don't know," Ron said.

Hermione put a hand over Ron's. "I know this is on me," she said. "I know it and I don't… I don't want to give up. Not yet."

Ron moved his hand away from hers and Hermione felt like an idiot again.

"Ron—"

"The thing is, as far as I'm concerned you're forgiven for the accusations and whatever else," Ron said flatly. "At least from the standpoint of you and I being co-parents, right? I won't bring it up again. I won't hold it against you. But I don't know how much more of this I can take."

Hermione stayed silent, watching as Ron looked off, shaking his head, thinking. She wanted so badly to go back to a month before and just do it all over again. She wanted to go back six months and do the same. But even if she could get ahold of a time turner again, it would do no good.

"I'll schedule an appointment for Tuesday," Hermione rushed ahead. "I'll be there. You can decide if you want to… or… or not."

"Fine," Ron said. "I'll think about it. But I'm not making any promises."

Hermione nodded and stood. She took a tentative step towards Ron and then another, as though approaching a hippogriff and waiting for it to bow its approval. He didn't move. She laid her hand along the right side of his face, her fingertips brushing against his hairline. He was biting the insides of his cheek, not looking at her, but he didn't push her away either. Emboldened, Hermione bent down brushing her lips against his. She took his upper lip between hers and then started to pull away.

Just before she could, Ron's hand wrapped into her hair and he pulled her deeper into him, kissing her and sending pleasant, hopeful chills down her spine. When he let her go, Hermione watched him closely, her eyes shifting between his.

"I'll think about it," Ron said again quietly.

"Thank you," Hermione whispered. She stood and cleared her throat. "Rose, Hugo… I'll see you later today, alright?"

"Bye, Mum!" Hugo shouted from their bedroom.

Hermione walked down the stairs. In one sense she was relieved that Ron had said he wasn't going to hold anything against her. In another she couldn't help but wonder whether that was going to remain true if it came down to keeping Rose and Hugo. She had read too many accounts of lawyers and individuals who held back on such situations until they became ammunition and Hermione knew that over the past month she had given Ron plenty of ammunition.

* * *

Hermione sat in Yarbrough's lobby alone, looking at her watch. Her name was called and Ron still wasn't there. She had hoped, but she should have known. Even in asking, she knew it wasn't a fair request, but she would schedule them every week and just hope against hope that Ron would get to the point where he was willing to try again.

She settled into the chair across from Dr. Yarbrough after shaking his hand. She squirmed a little trying to get comfortable as she leaned against one arm.

"Is Ron joining us today?" Yarbrough asked.

"I don't think so," Hermione said.

"I'm hoping the two of you had a good holiday," Yarbrough said.

"It was… rough," Hermione said.

"Oh?"

Hermione dove straight into everything. She spent longer than ever explaining all the reasons Miss Ford and Ron seemed suspicious to her. She told him about the suggestion to prepare for the worst. She talked of the incident with Rose at her school and how terrified that had made her, not to mention the tense Christmas Eve that ensued. He listened to all of it, including how she had figured out how wrong she was and the conversation she had with Ron.

"He says he doesn't know how much more he can take," Hermione said. "And he didn't come today."

"And how does that make you feel?"

"Awful," Hermione said, shaking her head. "I've failed. I just… I failed."

Yarbrough leaned back, placing an elbow on either side of his chair, his hands folded in the center. "What's your worst case scenario at this point?"

"Losing them," Hermione said. "Losing Rose and Hugo."

"And Ron?"

Hermione shook herself out of it. "Of course, yes, losing Ron."

"You know, people can have a healthy relationship only as parents and not actually be with one another," Yarbrough said. "Is that something you want?"

"No, of course not," Hermione said incredulously. "I love Ron."

"Does he know that?" Yarbrough asked. Hermione sat, speechless. "The way you speak of your lives together, it's obvious you value him as a father, but in all of that, you haven't mentioned the sort of things that indicate a desire for a partner. Not a partner in parenting or a partner in a household. An actual partner. Someone to share your deepest desires and fears with. Someone that you're willing to be weak around. Someone, for lack of a better phrase, that completes you. Is that something you want?"

Hermione felt herself choking up at the assessment. The words weren't ones she would have found for herself, but as he said them, they rung true. "Yes," Hermione said.

"Do you think Ron is that person?" Yarbrough asked.

"I know he is," Hermione said. "Or that… that he can be. I don't know that he feels the same anymore."

Yarbrough nodded. "Sometimes we make decisions stemming from our current emotions. We might make them because we're happy or excited or anxious. When we let fear rule our decision making, we tend to create a series of self fulfilling prophecies. What's your greatest fear in regards to Ron?"

Hermione thought, searching for an answer. "I don't… I don't have one…"

"There's no right answer here," Yarbrough said. "There's probably no easy one either. But this cycle you have yourself in—trying to make things work, then finding reasons to be reserved, then lashing out in hurtful ways... It's not coming from any kind of spite on your part. Let me assure you, you are not a terrible person. You're not a sociopath getting off on hurting someone you love. I've seen that, this is not it. But it will continue until you figure out just what you fear. Just what is making you feel the need to start throwing up your walls."

"What if Ron doesn't want to try anymore?" Hermione asked.

"I don't think that's the core fear," Yarbrough said, not answering her question. "That's just the latest prophesy. It's up to you whether or not it becomes reality."

* * *

Ron sat through the support group meeting, unintentionally tuning out most of what was said. There was a new bloke there. A mousy, twitchy sort of man. He talked for a good portion of it. Ron wished he had something to say to help, but he couldn't even concentrate well enough to know what the problem was. The meeting was dismissed and he just sat back in his chair, everyone else moving towards the refreshments.

He went back and forth for days about the session with Hermione. When he woke that morning, he realized he couldn't go in there just to argue with her. The reason he had gotten his own flat was because of the fighting and in the months since, the fight was out of him. He didn't even know why he even came that night. The inevitable seemed to be facing him—inches from his nose—and he was waiting it out, seeing if it would go away. Maybe one day he would wake up and Hermione would want him again. Maybe she would tug for his arms around her like she did a decade ago. Maybe she would fret to him about silly things that he could smile and tease her about, instead of hurling horrible accusations and acidic insults. Maybe.

"Hey there, Ron," Calvin said, sitting in the vacant seat beside him. "How are you doing?"

"Fine," Ron said.

"You seemed to have something on your mind tonight," Calvin said. "Did you need to talk about something you didn't want to share with the whole group?"

Ron let out a long heavy breath, thinking for a minute. "Hermione wants me to start going to therapy with her again."

"Well, isn't that good?" Calvin said.

"A month ago it would have been," Ron said. "She thought I was cheating all this time. She thought I was seeing someone. She wouldn't even believe me when I said there wasn't anything going on."

"How did you tell her?" Calvin asked.

"What do you mean? I told her she was being batty and that I wasn't seeing anyone," Ron said. Calvin gave him a knowing grin and Ron groaned. "Okay, I get it, but we were already having at it about other things and she told me she'd seen me with some woman."

Calvin gave a hum and nodded, but didn't move.

"She didn't talk to me practically all month," Ron said. "Then I found she had contact information for a divorce attorney."

"Has she made that official?"

"No," Ron admitted. "But if I know Hermione she's got everything lined up."

"But she asked you to resume counseling, right? That opens another possibility, doesn't it?"

"Sort of." Ron didn't know how to explain how cornered he felt. Everything else seemed to finally be going his way. Work was excellent. George and him made a better team than he could have ever imagined. Rose had bounced back from the ministry debacle seemingly well and both Rose and Hugo liked their new room at his flat and (though Ron didn't love this fact) seemed to have accepted their parents living apart as a normalcy in their lives. "It's just… it's not like you talk about with Athena. I get it's not perfect for you two all the time, but there's at least an understanding of where you're both headed."

"Yeah, but we learned that after we both were divorced," Calvin said. Ron turned to him.

"Athena's not your first wife?" he asked.

"No," Calvin said. "I started coming to this group when my last marriage was failing. We kept having problems. One after another. And I finally just stopped caring. Then lawyers got involved and it ended. Athena had her own story like that. When we got engaged, we decided we had to fight for what we thought we wanted. Through better, through worse, we would fight for each other."

"So the moral of the story is to just get to that second marriage?" Ron asked.

"If that's what you want," Calvin said. "And yeah, I'm happy with Athena. But you know, in the end, I was the one that gave up on the marriage. She wanted to try again. And if we both decided to fight for it, it might actually have worked. That's the moral of the story: if Hermione is what you want in this life, then keep fighting."

"Fighting is what got us here."

"Wrong kind of fighting, mate," Calvin said. "Fight out of love, not anger."

"Easy to say when it's not anger being thrown at you."

"You have more control than you think," Calvin replied. "She can be angry all she wants. When you choose to give her the benefit of the doubt instead of exploding back, you might be surprised how things turn around for you."

Ron took this in. "Thanks," he said.

Calvin gave him a smile and nod and stood. "Ralph, I wanted a minute!"

Ron continued to sit, thinking through everything Calvin just said. Fighting without anger. What a novel concept.


	11. Viper's Flu

**A/N:** In every fanfic I start, I can always envision a particular scene that's dramatic and important and vital to the story. It tends to be so vivid that I end up writing it up pretty early and adjusting it as needed when its time comes. This is that scene. I came home to an email inbox stuffed with awesome reviews, so instead of making you all wait a day or two, I brushed it up to post! Thanks for all the love!

 _ **Viper's Flu**_

Hermione thought a lot over the next week and a half about what fear was motivating her. With Rose and Hugo she knew. In fact, the second time she met with Yarborough on her own, he kept stopping her, reminding her that she had gotten back onto Hugo and Rose. Ron and her were getting on better terms, though they were just passed friendly in the grand scheme of things. When she invited him one night to stay for dinner, he agreed and she reached for his hand, holding it tightly throughout.

In her time alone, her mind still wandered to what would happen if she failed again. If she had pushed Ron beyond his breaking point. She still would watch Hugo and Rose sleeping at night, terrified of a future in which they weren't always there in their beds, just up the stairs from her.

On the third Friday of January, Ron was running late for morning pick up. He sent Hermione a patronus message promising he would be there to take them, but Hermione was left to get everything done to get the kids ready. She had an important meeting that day too and recited her points under her breath as she packed lunches and filled cereal bowls.

Rose arrived, slumping into the kitchen.

"I don't feel well, Mum," she said with a large, dramatic pout.

"No?" Hermione said. She waved for Rose to come closer to her. She felt her forehead and cheeks. Rose didn't feel warm in the slightest. Hermione tipped Rose's head back and she appeared well. "What's going on at school today?"

"We have art," Rose said. "And Miss Ford is reading to us."

"And?" Hermione asked with eyebrows raised. "Anything you'll be graded on?"

"A spelling test," Rose mumbled the admission.

"Ah, well, I have a feeling your symptoms will lift after that," Hermione said, giving Rose a kiss on her forehead.

"Mum," Rose groaned.

"Eat some breakfast, love," Hermione said, giving her a gentle nudge towards the table.

"I really _don't_ feel good," Rose said in the same pout as her original declaration.

"Feel well, sweetheart," Hermione said.

Hugo came bounding in, eating as well, and they were almost finished by the time Ron showed up.

"Sorry," Ron said. "There was a spot of trouble at the shop. In fact, I may not be able to get away to pick up the kids today. Think you can? Or I can call someone else."

Hermione saw the opportunity. The chance she needed to prove she was as much the attentive parent as Ron. She could be there for Rose and Hugo just like he could.

"I have a meeting until one, but I'll have my assistant cancel everything in the afternoon," Hermione said.

"Are you sure?" Ron asked. "Because, really, I don't want you to get behind at work—"

"No, I have it," Hermione said quickly. Ron made a strange expression to the sharp insistence. "It's not a problem, really. I just have to be at that meeting, but otherwise…"

"Daddy, I don't feel good… feel well," Rose tried with him, now that she had a new audience. He squatted in front of her, feeling her skin as Hermione already had. "I told Mum."

Hermione felt another potential point against her. Ron looked over to her and Hermione swallowed. "She has a test today," Hermione said.

Understanding dawned on Ron's face as he turned back to Rose.

"It's good to know you gained at least some of my sensible views on school," Ron said. "Hop to, Rosie. Sometimes you have to do things that are unpleasant. Like cleaning your ears."

Ron wiggled a finger inside Rose's ear and she squealed, swatting it away.

"Stop it, Daddy," Rose said. "You're going to make me throw up."

Rose said it so dramatically that Hermione couldn't help but smile as Ron squeezed Rose's shoulders, then helped Hugo put on his backpack.

"Bye, Hugo," Hermione gave him a hug and kiss. "We'll get ice cream tonight, Rose. Just get through your test, alright?"

Rose muttered something incomprehensible as Hermione hugged and kissed her, then watched the lot of them leave the house. She sighed. Right after the meeting, nothing was going to keep her.

* * *

"I don't see why we need to change these laws," Norman McDowell argued. He was a stodgy old man and one of the people Hermione knew as going to be resistant. "Things are fine."

"Things are fine for the average witch and wizard," Hermione argued. "But the way we handle victims of magical accidents as appalling. We shut them away like prisoners. Just because you can't see the way their lives are lead does not mean they are as privileged as the rest of us."

"So what do you suppose we do with people whose magic has become unruly?" McDowell asked.

"I think this proposal lays it out pretty well," Matilda Moffit jumped in, flipping through the pages in front of her.

McDowell and Mofitt got into it, going back and forth, occasionally interrupted by one of the other members of the Wizengamot committee meant to oversee the task. Shacklebolt sat back, stroking his chin as he considered each argument rather than joining in. They were nearly an hour in. Shacklebolt and Hermione's assistants had brought in lunch and tea for everyone as they continued on. McDowell was just about to speak again when Hermione's phone started to ring.

Hermione fumbled through her pockets, trying to remember which she had put the phone in. Her face burned as she noticed all eyes on her, all conversation stopped. She looked at the number on the screen. Bringhurst Academy. Rose's school. She swallowed.

"Excuse me, just a moment," Hermione said, looking around the table. "I'm sorry, I just need a moment."

Hermione stood, dashing to the nearest door, opening and holding it there with one hand as she pushed the button to answer with her right thumb.

"Hermione Granger speaking," she said.

"Hello Mrs. Granger, this is Nurse Cowley with the Bringhurst Academy," the voice on the other end said.

"Is Rose alright?"

"She's fine, Mrs. Granger, just a bit of a fever and she complained to Miss Ford about an aching stomach," Nurse Cowley said. "It's a bug that's been going around, but we need someone to come and fetch her. Any temperature over one hundred and our policy—"

"Yes, of course," Hermione interrupted her. She peeked back into the room. The others were chatting, waiting for her. "I'm in the middle of a meeting just now."

"We can also call your husband for you, if you're busy."

"No," Hermione said quickly. "No, that won't be necessary. It will just take me a few minutes longer to get there, but tell Rose I'm on my way."

Hermione ended the call and licked her lips. She thought for a moment about the piles of work on her desk and then Lana's words rung in her mind. She straightened up and walked back into the room.

"Terribly sorry, but my daughter seems to be ill," Hermione said. "I need to go and pick her up from school."

"Mrs. Granger, we have all rearranged our schedules to sit through this until it's figured out," Jeremiah Butler pointed out.

Hermione started to open her mouth when Shacklebolt lifted a hand to stop her.

"There is plenty we can discuss with Mrs. Granger gone," Shacklebolt said clearly. Most of the others nodded over this, though Butler stiffened. "I hope your daughter feels well again soon."

"Thank you," Hermione said, letting out a breath and walked towards the exit door once again, running to the lift and making her way quickly to the streets of London.

Hermione had to slow down, reminding herself that this was a Muggle school and it would look odd for her to show up only minutes after making an excuse for why she would take longer. Instead of apparating, she walked the four blocks, moving faster as the school came into view. She hurried to the front desk, asking for Nurse Cowley, and was lead by a heavy set receptionist back to the office where Rose was lying on a papered lounge chair, her eyes droopy and one hand holding her stomach.

"That was quick," Nurse Cowley said.

Hermione didn't bother to check the time and see if she had accomplished to cover herself on that point. Instead she walked into the room where Rose was, sitting on the edge of the little bed, pushing back her curls, feeling Rose's skin burn hot beneath her fingers where it had been cool to the touch that morning. Her skin was ashen and her bottom lip trembled.

"I tried to make it through the test," Rose said and Hermione's heart broke in two.

"I know, love," Hermione said, running the backs of her fingers down Rose's cheek.

"I just need you to sign her out, and you're free to take her home to rest," Nurse Cowley said.

Hermione stood, signed the paper where the nurse pointed, and took Rose by the hand, coaxing her to stand as they made their way to the street. Hermione hailed the Knight Bus and Rose leaned heavily against her, her little hand in Hermione's as they both stepped on and found seats near the front.

"Ow, Mum, it hurts," Rose said, curling up and holding her stomach.

"I know, sweetheart," Hermione said.

Hermione gripped tighter around Rose, watching out the window for their stop. She rubbed Rose's back and shouted for the driver to stop, holding tight to Rose as the bus stopped abruptly outside the office of magical medic's complex. They walked off the bus and Rose threw up into the bush on the lawn. A passerby gave the two of them a look and Hermione waited, watching those around her before pulling out her wand and conjuring a bag for Rose to vomit in, if she needed one inside.

There were three other patients Hermione had to wait for, filling out some paperwork as Rose laid her head in Hermione's lap until they were called up.

"She was fine last night," Hermione told the healer they were set into a room with. The man was looking into Rose's eyes, using his wand to probe and prod while examining her. Hermione leaned back against the counter nearby. "This morning she told me she wasn't feeling well, but she looked fine and she didn't have a fever then."

"Well, Rose," the healer said, raising his eyebrows. "It looks like you got yourself a good case of Viper's Flu. Have you heard of that before?"

"No," Rose said, her voice shaky.

"It is a bug that comes on very quickly, just like your mum described. Usually you feel it before symptoms even come," the healer said, taking a pad of paper and with a flick of his wand a quill was scribbling across the surface. "Young witches and wizards used to get it all the time and it's a good thing you came quickly, because we can get it all taken care of, alright?"

Rose nodded, her eyes flickering towards Hermione, who smiled calmly back. She had only heard of Viper's Flu in passing. A co-worker once talked about being worried her son had Viper's Flu, though it was a false alarm in the end. Hermione thought hard about why it was so dreaded, but couldn't before the healer was speaking again, this time to her.

"You will just need to take this to the potions stores we have next door. It's not the most pleasant treatment and you need to be aware the burning sensation is normal."

"Burning?" Hermione gasped.

"Yes," the healer said calmly. "It's not doing any damage, but like I said… not the most pleasant."

"Can't she take it here? Under supervision?"

"No," the healer said. "The instructions will get you through, but the brew must be opened and allowed to air for at least a few hours. Some soup and crackers and rest, if she can, while you wait should be fine, but watch that it's not too much at once. If she can't keep anything down after the potion, then Mungo's may be your only option."

"Alright, thank you," Hermione said, running those instructions through her mind.

"Do you have any other children?" he asked.

"One," Hermione said. "Rose's younger brother."

"This can be contagious. If he isn't showing similar symptoms, keeping them apart for the next twenty-four hours is vital."

"What about Rose's classmates? Should I notify her school?" Hermione asked.

"Let her teacher know. Most of the other parents should have quick access to the potion, but the earlier this is caught, the better," the healer said.

"They won't have the potion. Rose attends a muggle primary school," Hermione clarified.

The healer stopped, stunned for a moment. "Oh, right, well," he stammered, scratching his head. "I don't think you need to worry, then. It's not a virus that affects muggles."

Hermione nodded, taking the slip of paper. Rose stood, visibly unsteady. Hermione put an arm around her, then moved towards the door.

"Let's get this quickly. Then we'll get you home to rest," Hermione said.

The manager of the potion stores made them wait for another hour, though, saying there had been high demand for that potion and that she needed to make more. By the time they were home, it was 2:30 in the afternoon and Hugo would need to be picked up from preschool soon. Hermione rushed through, opening the top of the potion, pouring the acid green liquid into a glass, watching as it smoked and bubbled, hissing violently as she turned towards the floo. She threw in a handful and heard Rose call for her.

"Just a moment, love," she called back, sticking her head into the flames. She waited, seeing Ginny pass. "Ginny!" she gasped, feeling the weight of the afternoon's worries, now that there was someone she knew could help her.

"Oh, hi there, Hermione," she said, kneeling down in front of her.

"Rose is sick and I need someone who can pick up Hugo," Hermione said.

"Oh no, what is it?" Ginny asked.

"She has Viper's Flu," Hermione said. A sympathetic look took over Ginny. "The, er, healer said if Hugo isn't showing symptoms, then he should be fine. If he isn't feeling well, just bring him back home and I'll take care of things. But if he's okay, could he stay—"

"Absolutely! Don't worry about a thing," Ginny interrupted her and Hermione let out a sigh of relief. "You and Ron just focus on Rose and we'll have fun with Hugo here, alright?"

"Yes, alright," Hermione said. "The preschool has an extra set of clothes for him. For pajamas—"

"I'm sure we have something old of James or Albus's," Ginny said.

"Okay, thank you," Hermione said. "I owe you."

Guilt settled over her as she pulled herself out of the floo. Guilt for burdening Ginny instead of having Ron take care of Hugo. Guilt, knowing she would want to know about this straight away if it had happened on Ron's watch. But she couldn't tell him until she had shown she could handle these issues on her own. She couldn't let him have one more thing over her. One more excuse to prove him the better parent.

Hermione looked at the potion, hoping the bubbling had stopped so that she could give it to Rose sooner rather than later. She would tell Ron after she had given Rose the potion. Of course it was false optimism. It would be bubbling for several hours, she reminded herself. The healer had said three. Hermione was tempted to go to her library and try to find a way to speed up the process, but Rose called for her again, interrupting that thought. Instead she filled a second glass with juice, and went to sit beside Rose.

The next stretch of time was agony for Rose and Hermione. Rose would be weak, leaning against Hermione with her eyes half closed, then suddenly bend in two groaning and crying as Hermione rocked her back and forth, staving off her own urge to crumble into tears. Rose refused anything to drink or eat and threw up twice into the sick bag. Hermione cleared it out with a wave of her wand, summoning a damp towel to wipe Rose's mouth.

It was already dark out when a loud pop from the living room sounded.

"Hermione? Ron?" Harry's voice rang out.

Hermione let out a sigh of relief. "Rose and I are in here," she called out, continuing to run her fingers through Rose's hair as her daughter was curled up on her lap, whimpering quietly in pain.

"Ginny wanted me to let you know Hugo's fine," Harry said, his voice getting louder as he walked towards Rose's room. He stopped in the doorway. "And wanted to see if you needed anything."

Harry had obviously just come from work, his work robes were unbuttoned and hanging open, but still on. He looked confused for a moment.

"Where's Ron?" he asked.

"Probably at work or his flat," Hermione said, adjusting Rose.

"Why's he not here?" Harry asked.

Hermione looked at him, eyes wide and pleading for understanding. There wasn't anything Ron could really do right now that she couldn't, and she had to. She had to show she could do this on her own. There was too much at stake not to show that.

"It's probably close to three hours," Hermione whispered to Rose. "I'll go get your potion, alright?"

Rose nodded and moved so that Hermione could stand, walking out the door as Harry continued to look dumbfounded, following her down the steps and towards the kitchen, where she had left the glass with the green liquid.

"Shouldn't Ron know?" Harry asked. "Ginny thought that's why you needed her to pick up Hugo."

"I'll send him a message in a few," Hermione said. "It's just… it's been a long afternoon and—"

"Hermione, this isn't like you," Harry replied. "Why didn't you send him a message straight away? Don't you both have cell phones?"

"I can't, okay?" Hermione choked out. "But I will tell him—"

"Hermione," Harry sighed, putting his hands on his hips. "Whatever else you two have going on, you know he would do anything for the kids, right?"

"I know," Hermione said. "That's the problem."

"Mum!" Rose cried out and both Hermione and Harry turned back to the task at hand, Hermione grabbing the potion and Harry following behind. Hermione moved up the stairs, watching to balance the glass carefully. There were still a few bubbles, but as she looked at her watch it had definitely been three hours.

"Right here," Hermione said as she entered the room. She sat on the edge of the bed. Rose's skin was so colorless, her forehead coated in a sheen of sweat. Hermione propped her up, putting the edge of the cup to Rose's lips. "Drink it up, love. You'll feel better after this."

Not a drop made it into Rose's mouth, though. The green touched her lips and Rose let out a scream, pulling back. It was all Hermione could do not to spill any as she straightened the glass and pulled it away.

"That hurts!" Rose shouted, crying now, tears streaming as she wiped furiously at her mouth. She was shaking in her attempts and Hermione set down the potion for the juice, coaxing Rose to take a sip, the touch of something else cool seeming to ease whatever pain the potion had caused.

"Rose, sweetheart, you need to take the potion," Hermione said, feeling her nerves unraveling.

"No," Rose cried, pressing fists into her eyes and sitting up, throwing up yet again, this time all over her blanket with her sick the color of bile. Rose had no food left in her. Harry rushed in to remove the blanket as Hermione caressed Rose's cheeks. "No, Mum, please, no."

"You _have_ to," Hermione said, her own voice shaky.

"I want Dad," Rose croaked. Hermione pulled Rose into her. "I want Daddy, Mum."

Hermione pressed her lips together, tears springing to her eyes as she nodded. She looked up to where Harry was watching them from the doorway and he nodded in return, turning on the spot.

"Uncle Harry went to get him," Hermione promised, feeling absolute defeat. "He'll be here, love. Can you try taking your potion?"

Rose only cried harder at the suggestion and Hermione gripped Rose tightly, wondering if she should have just gone to Mungo's instead of coming home. She didn't know about what was normal with this virus and she couldn't hold her daughter and do research at the same time. If only she could get Rose to take the potion, perhaps this would be better. Several agonizing minutes passed before Ron appeared, Harry right at his shoulder.

"Oh, Rose," Ron said.

Hermione moved out of the way as Ron picked Rose up easily, settling himself back against Rose's headboard, tucking Rose against his body as he held her. Rose turned into him, crying even harder and Hermione could see the energy drain the longer she cried. Ron looked at Hermione and she looked down, unable to meet his eye.

"The potion your mum got will make you feel better," Ron said quietly. Rose shook her head no into his chest. "Come on, my Rosie, you need to take the potion. I'll help you."

"It hurts," Rose cried.

Ron pulled her back to face him, cupping her chin carefully in one hand. "Did you know your Aunt Gin had Viper's Flu when we were kids?"

Rose sniffed taking this in, then shook her head.

"She had to take the potion, too," Ron said. "Then she felt better."

"Did she hurt?"

"Yes, but it goes away," Ron promised. "You can be brave like Aunt Gin, right?"

Rose thought about this a moment, then shook her head no.

"Yes you can. You're my brave girl." Ron tucked Rose's hair behind her ear, feeling her cheeks and forehead with the back of his hand. "Give me thirty seconds of brave. Just thirty and it will be all over. Okay?"

Rose took a while before she nodded apprehensively. Ron reached over for the glass, holding it in one hand as he moved to sit straight against the headboard, setting Rose on his right leg, supporting her around her waist.

"Ready?" Ron asked, moving the glass towards her lips. Rose took a shaky, steeling breath and Ron started to tip it back. Rose made a noise when it touched this time, but didn't move. "Thirty, twenty-nine, twenty-eight…"

Hermione felt her insides twist up unpleasantly as Rose squealed, but kept drinking. With eyes shut tight, tears rolled down Rose's cheeks, but Ron continued to count down. _Twenty, nineteen_. Hermione wrapped one arm around her middle, covering her mouth with the other. _Fifteen, fourteen_. The potion was more than half gone and Rose almost pulled away, but Ron counted louder, pulling her closer to him and she rallied, drinking more. _Eight, seven_. Rose's brows were knit and her face was grimaced in determination. _Five, four_. By three, the potion was gone and Ron pulled the glass away from Rose's lips as he finished their countdown.

Rose continued to cry as Ron grabbed the juice, coaxing her to drink until the sobbing lessened and she was quietly tucked into Ron's embrace. He wrapped his newly freed hand around her, whispering into her ear. Hermione blinked out tears, wiping them from her cheek as Ron's gentle blue eyes met hers. They stared at one another for several moments before Ron adjusted Rose, moving her a little more to his right and opened his left arm up.

Hermione didn't hesitate as she stepped over and into the comfort of Ron's arm around her as well. She curled herself onto Rose's bed beside her daughter, reaching one hand out to play with Rose's hair and touch her face. Rose's tears were subsiding just as Hermione's reached their height.

"I'll go update Ginny," Harry said awkwardly. "Let us know if we can do anything else."

"Thanks, mate," Ron said, his hand rubbing Hermione's back.

The three were left alone in this little cocooned position. "My brave girl," Ron whispered over and over above them. His left hand was wrapped easily around Hermione's waist. He would lean forward, kissing the top of Rose's head repeatedly, then Hermione felt his lips against her temple and forehead. She closed her eyes as he lingered once, then turned to look up at him. She didn't find anger there, or irritation, but a half grin. A bit of encouragement for her long day as well.

* * *

After over an hour with the three of them in an embrace, Hermione wiped at her tears and went to the kitchen, bringing back crackers and more juice. Together Ron and Hermione encouraged Rose to eat and drink, watching her settle into bed and waiting to be certain the food stayed down. Hermione gave Ron a complete rundown of the day's events, saying uncertainly over and over that the potion seemed to have worked.

"Right?" Hermione asked, stroking Rose's cheek. Their daughter had closed her eyes and was at least halfway to sleep, if not entirely there. "I mean, she hasn't felt her stomach ache and she's much calmer."

"It worked," Ron said, massaging Hermione's shoulders from behind her.

"I should have believed her," Hermione said. "She didn't have a fever… she didn't—"

"She didn't look ill, no," Ron said. "I thought the same." Hermione breathed easier after he said this.

Once Rose had certainly drifted off, Ron watched as Hermione carefully took Rose's favorite stuffed animal of a kitten and tucked it under her arm, raising the covers a little more. She followed Ron out of the room and down the stairs. Hermione folded her arms across her chest in a defensive stance. Ron turned, leaning against the wall at the bottom, Hermione staying two steps above him.

"I'm sorry I didn't call for you earlier," Hermione said.

When Harry apparated to Ron's flat, he had immediately gone into the information he knew. Rose had Viper's Flu, Hermione had called Ginny to take care of Hugo, and Rose was having a hard time. Ron rushed to find his shoes and sat, pulling them on as his mind immediately leapt to anger that Hermione didn't call him in the first place. _He_ should have been the one to get Hugo. Yes, he probably still would have taken Hugo to Ginny and Harry's or his parents so that he could be with Rose, but he should have been the one to make that call. Or at least had a say.

But this was what Calvin had talked about. Learning to give the benefit of the doubt. Learning to listen beyond that anger. Learning to listen to the logic, rather than the action. To fight with love. Once Ron had decided to do this much, he found the anger didn't have a place to stay anymore. Even as he stood, Hermione opening up the opportunity to tell her off and be angry again.

"Why didn't you?" Ron asked instead. Hermione took a shuddering breath.

"I can't lose them," Hermione said. The tears that had gone came flooding back. "I can't lose them, Ron."

"Why would you lose them?" Ron asked.

"I… I want to be able to do this on my own," Hermione said. "Work and picking them up. Single mums do it all the time, right? Ron, if we keep going down this road… and the courts... "

"Hermione," Ron said. "Do you really think I'm trying to take them from you?"

Hermione looked off, wiping at her tears as her bottom lip quivered.

"What kind of father would that make me if I tried to keep them from a mum like you?" Ron asked.

"A mum like me," Hermione scoffed. "Impatient and sharp and—"

"And loving and attentive," Ron interrupted. "And someone who makes them curious about the world. We both know they get their cleverness from you."

"I couldn't get her to drink it," Hermione whispered.

"Bullocks," Ron said. "You would have gotten her there just fine if you needed to. But we're a team. No matter how you feel about me with everything else, the moment Rose came along, we became a team for life. And the last thing I would do is keep them from you."

They stood a moment in silence. Hermione looked down biting her bottom lip. When she looked back up, she leaned forward. Her lips touched his first, then her hands moved along his chest. Ron closed his eyes, meeting her desperate movements, kissing her more deeply and pulling her body into his. Hermione's breath shortened as she wrapped one leg around Ron. He held it there at the thigh, unable to get close enough, unable to control himself as he wrapped a hand around her neck, pulling her the last couple steps down and held her against the wall.

Hermione pulled at the bottom of Ron's shirt and they worked awkwardly, neither willing to part enough to remove the shirt easily. She fumbled, reaching for his belt as he moved just far enough back to work at her buttons beneath his fingers. As the blouse fabric fell open, Hermione found his lips again. Ron's hands felt her torso; pulling, squeezing, holding. Hermione's own hands moved along his chest and shoulders. He picked her up, Hermione wrapping her legs around him as he carried her towards their room, laying her out on their bed and crawling above her gasping form. Her hair was all over the place. Her hands rubbed at his sides while she stared at his lips.

Ron lifted a hand, pushing frizzy curls from Hermione's forehead. He looked into her brown eyes, still wet from tears, and propped himself up on one arm, lifting his other hand to wipe and dry the remaining moisture from her cheeks. He placed a gentle kiss on her lips.

"I love you," he said. Hermione's breath caught beneath him. He kissed her ear, then down her jaw and neck and lower, whispering _I love you_ , again and again. A plead for her to understand. A plead for her to believe.


	12. Boggart

_**Boggart**_

Ron and Hermione stayed awake for hours. Ron ran his fingers along Hermione's spine as she wrapped her arms lithely around his neck. They stared into one another's eyes. Ron leaned in, kissing her gently again and again. Every hour or so, one of them would wrap up in a robe—Ron's an old, worn one he had left behind—to check that Rose was still asleep, then come back, entwining their bodies again.

Ron asked about what she had been working on and how her meetings had gone. Hermione asked about Ron's new position, a gleam in her eye to match his own as he discussed plans and schemes he and George had worked on.

"I'm doing research now for an American line," Ron said. "A lot should translate, but George wants to get a shop open in Salem in the next three years. I think we can do it in two."

They talked about the summer in Italy. Ron suggested Hermione should see if her cousin Britney might want to travel with them.

"I thought you didn't want a nanny," Hermione said.

"I don't, on a regular basis," Ron admitted. "But it would be nice to have one weekend with just us, don't you think? We won't use her the rest of the time, but a trip seems a proper payment, right?"

Hermione nuzzled into Ron as he told her about the support group and what they had suggested in terms of the nanny. The mystery of the Tuesday (and sometimes Thursday) meetings was solved. She listened quietly as he continued on about other bits of advice. Other things he was trying to be better about. And she told him about how she had scheduled another appointment with Yarborough.

"Come with me?" Hermione said. "It's a week from Monday."

"Okay," Ron agreed. She stirred beneath his touch.

"I never thanked you for that book," Hermione whispered. "The muggle one you bought."

"I had noticed it was on the shelf," Ron replied, pulling her over him, pressing his lips along her shoulders as Hermione rested a forearm on either side of him.

"I may have thrown it across the room first."

Ron pulled back, tilting his head.

"I was upset," Hermione said.

"You must have been," Ron said with a grin. "What did that book ever do to you?"

Hermione bit her bottom lip, a strange expression coming over her as she moved her hands along Ron's chest.

"What is it?" Ron asked.

Hermione shook her head back and forth. He waited a few moments.

"I was reading through the old part of the story book you helped Rose add to," Hermione said, meeting his eyes again. Ron was sure that wasn't what she had been thinking of. And it wasn't the only time in the night she had made such an expression.

"Oh?" he still said.

"That bit you wrote about our engagement," Hermione said. "Sunshine."

Ron moved his right hand to push back Hermione's hair. Training it all to one side as he hummed. "It's been awhile since you called me that, Rainbow," he said. Hermione laughed, her head falling into the nook of his neck.

Hermione kissed his neck, tasting his skin as Ron tilted his chin up, his fingers kneading into her sides before raising a hand to pull her chin up, pulling her mouth to his. It was nearly three in the morning that they fell asleep, spooned tightly with fingers laced together.

Ron woke with the alarm, turning off and watching Hermione for several minutes. In sleep, the anxious expressions disappeared. Her hair was pressed under her neck on the opposite side so her profile was perfect with the sunlight from the window kissing the edges of her skin.

Ron dressed and went into the kitchen, getting together toast and juice and a banana, placing it on a tray and walking it up the stairs. He carried it up the stairs and carefully opened the door. Rose was flung out on her bed, spread eagle with her previously tucked covers sprawled out around her small frame.

Ron set the tray down on Rose's dresser and squat next to her bed, stroking her cheek carefully. "Rosie," he whispered. "Rosie, how are you feeling?"

Rose squirmed and turned on her side, swallowing before she opened her eyes halfway. She didn't reply, smacking her lips as Ron ran his fingers through her hair. "Where's Mum?" Rose croaked out.

"She's sleeping," Ron said.

"Can I see her?" Rose asked pushing up.

"You start eating some breakfast," Ron said. "I'll go down and let her know, alright?"

"No need," Hermione said from behind him. He turned. She had put on pajamas, with her robe on top. She grinned at Ron and moved in, sitting on the edge of Rose's bed.

Rose's cheeks had some color to them, though she was taking her time in easing awake. She pushed herself up and ate a slice of toast, drinking the juice and foregoing the fruit entirely. Rose asked Hermione to read to her after she had had her fill. Hermione moved to sit beside the wall, Ron squeezed onto the opposite edge, one foot on the ground, and Rose sat between them. She looped her elbow around Ron's and leaned against Hermione as they read through a stack of books. Ron felt her forehead and cheeks repeatedly, assuring himself the fever was gone. She would just need to recuperate her strength now.

As Rose fell asleep to one of the stories, shifting so that her head rested against Ron's ribcage, Hermione closed the book and looked over to Ron. Careful not to jostle Rose, Hermione leaned over their daughter to give Ron a kiss.

* * *

By early afternoon, Rose was more herself. Hermione had taken a few moments once she was sleeping again to look through a book of wizard maladies to see if there was anything else they needed to do. There was an herb tea that was recommended and she wrote just what to gather to give Rose some with her dinner. She would check with Ginny to see if they had any of it when she went to get Hugo.

When Hermione entered the sitting room, Ron was playing airplane with Rose, lifting her against his bare feet in the air. She squealed in delight.

"Oh, careful," Hermione said, remembering how fragile Rose had seemed the day before.

Ron did appear to be particularly gentle when letting her down, though Rose immediately ran circles around the room.

"I think I'll go pick up Hugo," Hermione said. "You don't think it's too soon, do you?"

"No, I think we're okay," Ron said, still laying out on the ground. He reached out and wrapped a hand around Hermione's ankle. "Would you rather I—"

"I've got it," Hermione replied. "I'm going to pick up some tea that should help Rose get back to full form, too."

"Take that!" Rose shouted, doing an elbow drop onto Ron's stomach, making his double up and groan.

"I think she's feeling better," he breathed out raggedly and Hermione laughed.

"I want you to get a little more rest soon, Rosie," Hermione said, pulling her in and kissing the top of her head.

Hugo and James were doing their own wrestling as Albus preoccupied himself with a Quidditch mini model, whose players would play actual games once it was all put together. Lily was perfectly happy on Harry's shoulders, hand clamped over his forehead as he walked around, dusting the furniture.

"How's Rose?" Ginny asked, giving Hermione a kiss on the cheek.

"She's almost herself," Hermione said. "I did have some herbs I wanted to get. I can make a run to the apothecary, but I thought you might have some of these in your garden."

Ginny took from the list nodding slowly, then enthusiastically. "Come on," she said.

Hermione followed her outside, holding sprigs of herbs as Ginny went down the line, tapping branches with her wand, letting them fall, then moving to the next.

"Ron's with Rose?" Ginny asked.

"Yes," Hermione said. "We thought we would play games as a family once I get Hugo home."

Ginny looked up, her eyebrows raised. "Ron took everything okay, then?"

"Yeah," Hermione said, looking out into the yard. "We talked and…"

Ginny turned towards her, folding her arms. "And what?"

"I mean, it was a nice evening," Hermione said, trying to suppress the kind of stupid smile she felt like exhibiting after the last couple months.

As Ron and her talked—talked about nothing and everything—Hermione felt connected to him in ways she had never thought they had been before. She could still sense a ghost of his touch. As he spoke of the group he had been attending—tempering himself by saying how it was lame and stupid while simultaneously sounding utterly enthusiastic in a way only Ron could balance—and Hermione thought she should tell him what Dr. Yarborough had said to her.

But how would it have sounded? She couldn't find a way to say it that it wouldn't have ruined the moment. And the last thing Hermione wanted was to break away from the magic that had somehow happened, despite everything else going on. There was a nagging that it couldn't last. They weren't done talking, after all. They weren't done working through things and Hermione had to push the thought from her mind to keep herself off edge.

"Did you... ?"

"Yes," Hermione admitted.

"Is that going to be a problem?" Ginny asked. "I mean, you were both… feeling like it was the right time?"

"Absolutely," Hermione said. "I mean, I think so."

Ginny's grin saddened a little. "What is it?"

Hermione swallowed. "In the moment everything seems so perfect," Hermione said. "Then… then I step away and it's such a small portion of the picture."

"That's every moment in life, Hermione," Ginny said, shaking her head. "But why not enjoy it when it does happen?"

"You're right," Hermione said, though she wasn't entirely convinced. It was easier to agree than to dissect the weightiness of her thoughts.

"I'm just happy you finally got some," Ginny said, the sly smirk returning. "I was so very close to taking you to a strip club just to cheer you up a bit."

"I'm a married woman!" Hermione said incredulously.

"So am I," Ginny countered.

"Exactly. How do you think Harry would have reacted to that?"

"Are you joking? I would have made him come with. Buy you a lap dance," Ginny said, sauntering back inside. "By the way, why don't you and Ron bring the kids tomorrow for dinner. We haven't done that in a while."

"I don't know if I trust any of your plans now," Hermione retorted under her breath on her way back in.

* * *

Ron went to get an overnight bag Saturday evening just after the kids went to bed, saying he might as well stay the weekend.

"If that's okay with you?" he said.

Hermione responded by stepping in and kissing him. "Yes, of course," Hermione said. "I do have to go through some briefings."

"Okay," Ron whispered.

By the time he got back, Hermione had papers spread across the coffee table as she sat cross legged and bent over one stack. Ron went to take a shower, then came into the sitting room, moving to the spot beside Hermione. She was concentrating on some edits made to Jodi's work and Ron scratched her back, relaxed beside her.

They went to sleep much earlier, though Ron whispered into her ear as they drifted off. When they woke in the morning, they could hear pounding upstairs.

"They're up," Ron groaned. Hermione turned in his arms and he kissed the tip of her nose.

"Rose will keep Hugo busy for a little longer," she said. "I was thinking…"

"Hm?" Ron hummed, his head back on the pillow, his eyes closed.

"Come back," Hermione said. She rubbed her lips together. "Let's go to George's flat today and we'll bring back all your things."

Ron opened his eyes and took a deep, steady breath. Hermione swallowed, knowing what that meant before he even started to talk.

"Hermione, we'll be going to meet with Yarborough, but we can take it slow. I can come back here on the weekends, maybe."

Hermione's face burned hot. Ron reached up to touch her cheek and she turned away, feeling the drop in the pit of her stomach. The same one she felt when Ron disapparated that first night. The same one when she thought she saw him meeting with Miss Ford in secret.

"Hermione, I—"

"Just go, then," Hermione said, turning to get out of bed.

Ron stood, following her towards the bathroom. She snatched a face towel from the cabinet as Ron froze in the doorway, looking at her through the mirror.

"Don't act like this is some big surprise," Ron said, one hand on his hip as he leaned against the wall. "We're getting there, I just—"

"You know, it doesn't matter," Hermione replied snippily as she dried her face. "But you could at least be straight with me."

"How haven't I—" Ron stopped midsentence. "What do you want to know?" he tried to constrain himself.

"Nothing," Hermione said. "I need to take a shower. Can you just keep Rose and Hugo from burning the house down?"

Ron shook his head and turned, walking out of the room. Hermione looked at her reflection, feeling something developing inside. A truth coming to the surface. She knew what it was, too. It was the fear. The fear Yarborough had asked her for again and again. The one she had wracked her brain for days to find. And now that it was starting to look familiar, she wanted to shove it back and erase it from her thoughts.

She reorganized her papers and continued to work as Ron played with Rose and Hugo up the stairs. Hermione didn't say anything until it was getting close to time to leave for Harry and Ginny's house. She helped fix Rose's hair while Ron had the usual negotiations with Hugo over how many toys he could bring with and they were off.

When Ginny opened the door, Rose ran to hug her, then looked up.

"I had to be brave like you, Aunt Gin," Rose said.

"Oh, is that so?" Ginny replied, kissing her cheek and giving an inquisitive look between Ron and Hermione.

"I told her about when you had Viper's flu," Ron said and understanding took over as Rose moved on to Harry, then ran to play with her cousins and Hugo took his own turn.

"Ginny's making a roast," Harry said. "Come on in."

The kids had all dispersed into various bedrooms, shouting and laughter ringing from down the hall. There was a loud bang right around James's room.

"Oi! Do I need to come see what you're up to?" Harry shouted.

Silence ruled for several moments.

"No?" James's muffled voice came, more question than answer.

"I really don't want to know what he's into this time," Harry said. "You know, I always thought Fred and George were a laugh, but I think that boy might be the death of me."

"Let him go on a bit longer," Ginny said in a chipper tone. "Then I can assign him to weeding the garden this week."

They settled in the sitting room. Ginny waved her wand and glasses of wine came out. Hermione and Ron sat in the arm chairs, facing away from one another. Ginny asked about their family night and Hermione gave a short answer. Ron didn't bother with pleasantries, sulking where he sat. There was a loud bang above them.

"Boggart," Ginny said. "I'm sure of it."

Harry sighed. "Want me to get it?"

There was a second bang from James's room, this one louder.

"Why don't you get that one first," Ginny suggested. "The one in the attic can wait."

Harry growled and made his way down the hall. When he opened the door, blue smoke plummed out. "James," Harry growled.

"It wasn't supposed to explode, Dad," James's voice came quickly through the smoke.

"So," Ginny said. She looked anxiously between the two of them. "Hermione said she's looking forward to a summer holiday in Italy."

"Oh, did she?" Ron said snippily. "I thought that was just me, looking forward to the time we have together."

Hermione's face burned. "You're going to do this now?"

"Why not?" Ron said. "You get to have sudden outbursts."

"I thought you two were doing better?" Ginny asked. "I thought you were actually getting along."

"Is that what she told you?" Ron asked.

"I figured you'd prefer that version of things," Hermione said. "I know how much you love just being able to pop in and out whenever you please."

"God, Hermione! You would think that we hadn't just spent the last three months living in different places!

"The length of time makes it easier, does it?" Hermione said. "I'm glad it's so easy for you!"

"I can't believe you couldn't just get through one nice weekend," Ron said. "Just one full weekend without an argument!"

"It's not like any of it has been real," Hermione said, looking over at Ron. It was his turn for his face to flush red with hurt.

"Enough!" Ginny snapped. "What is with you two?"

"You know, I think I'll just leave you all to have a good visit," Hermione said, standing from her chair, emotion rising in her voice. "I'm sorry Gin—"

"No," Ginny said raising her wand. "No. You two, mine and Harry's room now!"

"We are not your children, Ginny," Ron spat.

" _Now_ ," Ginny said with a flick of her wand. There were hundreds of little prods and pokes, nudging Hermione and Ron down the hall. As they protested, Ginny just pushed them further, the little hands picking Ron up by the elbows at one point when he tried to resist them.

"Bloody hell, Ginny!" Ron shouted. They were in the bedroom now. Ginny filled the doorway with her hands on her hips, looking more like Mrs. Weasley than ever before.

"It is about damn well time you two actually talked," Ginny said. "We have been patient in listening while you bungle any chance at actually mending things! You stay in here until you talk. A real conversation, you understand me?"

Ginny grabbed the door handle, then turned her glare to them again.

"And if you shag on my clean sheets instead of hold the discussion you have both been avoiding, so help me God, I will hex you six ways to Sunday!"

She slammed the door. Ron let out a huff and walked over, wiggling the handle. Hermione wasn't surprised it was locked.

"That bloody brat!" Ron snapped. He turned, seething. "Not real?!"

Hermione was acutely aware that their children were in one of the rooms nearby. She folded her arms across her chest and looked over to the dresser where pictures of Harry and Ginny smiled up at them.

"No," Hermione said. "None of it was real, was it?"

Ron took deep breaths. "What bits weren't real, Hermione? Was it all some kind of illusion?"

He moved towards her. Hermione stepped away, turning from him, pressing her lips together.

"We just both needed comfort," Hermione said. "After watching Rose like that, we both—"

"Bullshit," Ron said. Hermione stopped and turned towards him. "That is bullshit, and you know it. That night…" Ron shook his head and Hermione swallowed, looking down. "Once we knew Rose was okay. Once it was just you and me… that was the most real we've been with one another in a long time. In years, even."

Hermione teared up, feeling the walls closing in.

"Hermione, why do you keep pushing me away?" Ron asked.

She looked over to the closet. "Harry and Ginny have an access point to their attic in there," Hermione said. "Ginny probably didn't think to block it off."

"Hermione," Ron said gently as she past him, heading towards the closet.

Hermione tried to use her wand to get the ladder down, but it wasn't working. Probably something else Ginny had done. She stretched for the string to do it manually, but couldn't quite reach. Ron reached above her, grabbing it and pulling it down until she could hold it. She yanked it the rest of the way, then climbed quickly. Once above, she was able to light her wand. She searched around for one that dropped down into the study. She would figure out what to tell Ginny once she got out completely. Or she would just apparate home and make her apologies later.

Hermione was scanning the floor for exit points when something shifted to her left. She moved her wand and somehow Ron had gotten ahead of her. He looked more angry than she had ever seen him before. His face was contorted and he sneered at her in disgust.

"You," Ron growled. "You are the biggest mistake I ever made. I never should have thought I loved you."

Hermione froze, her wand illuminating him as he moved towards her. Tears began to pour down her cheeks.

"You think you're clever, but you never could figure out how to care about anyone but yourself. I would be better off never having known you."

Hermione couldn't move. He was coming closer. Hermione stood, sobbing when something jumped between her and Ron. No someone. Ron had gotten between her and… himself?

There was a crack and the Ron that had been berating her turned into a large and hairy spider.

" _Riddikulus,_ " Ron said. The spider's legs braided themselves and with another crack, it disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

Hermione still hadn't moved as her bottom lip trembled.

"Hermione," Ron said cautiously. "Hermione, I—"

Hermione moved as fast as she could back to where they had come. She scrambled down the steps and moved to the door, shaking like a leaf. She pounded on the door. "Ginny! Ginny I want out now, or I swear I will blast this door down!"

A confused Harry answered it instead and Hermione strode past him, wiping at her cheeks and hurrying out the door. As soon as she had space enough, Hermione turned and fell haphazardly in her apparition onto her knees in the living room of her house. She stayed put, clutching her chest with her free hand as she cried.

* * *

Ron came home after dessert at Harry and Ginny's, prodding Hugo and Rose to go upstairs and get changed.

"But where's Mum?" Rose asked.

"She's around here, I'm sure," Ron said. "Go on, now. She'll come tuck you in."

He hoped he was right. He couldn't get her boggart out of his head. The way it had mimicked him. Is that how he looked when got into arguments? Is that how he sounded? Ron opened the door to their bedroom, turning on the lights, but Hermione wasn't there. He moved towards the study. The light showed dimly through the bottom of the door. Ron eased it open, seeing the back of Hermione's head over the desk chair.

"'mione?"Ron said carefully.

She turned, made eye contact, then looked down.

"Sorry, I should have made sure you could bring Rose and Hugo back," she said cordially.

"Hermione, we need to talk."

"Please, don't," she pleaded.

Ron moved into the study and closed the door behind him. "I don't think you're a mistake at all, you know that right?"

"Ron, just please…"

"Please what?"

"Please don't say things out of pity," Hermione begged. "It's worse than when you shout."

Ron blinked, not sure if he had anything he had planned to say that didn't sound like pity, even if they were sincere. He stepped closer to her instead, wrapping a hand around her neck. He turned the chair towards him as he knelt in front of Hermione, her eyes still downcast.

Hermione bit her bottom lip, but didn't fight it as Ron pulled her to him. His forehead was pressed against hers when she began to cry again.

"You were never a mistake," Ron said quietly again. "You were the smartest choice I ever made. I mean, we both know that doesn't say much…"

Hermione snorted a laugh through crying as she finally met his eyes.

"I love you," Hermione whispered. "I do. I really do, Ron."

"I know," Ron said. He moved his thumb along her neck.

* * *

Hermione went to Yarborough's office and begged to be squeezed in the middle of that week. They still had an appointment together the next Monday, but she knew that would be better if she could talk to him on her own first. Explaining the fear to Yarborough got her going again and Hermione was surprised he could understand anything she said. She had gone through half a dozen tissues by the time she had out with it.

"Ron's going to stay with us on the weekends now," Hermione said with a shuddering breath. "Ease back into moving home."

"That sounds like progress," Yarborough said.

She talked about the fight they had at Harry and Ginny's when the issue first arose. He sat calmly, listening.

"Knowing what the fear is, you can start to counter it," Yarborough said. "It's something like knowing your enemy in battle. You can plan your strategy where you couldn't otherwise."

"But how do I counter something like that?" Hermione asked. She could still see the boggart version of Ron, scowling down at her and delivering the blow. She would have just stood there and been attacked had Ron not intervened.

"Well, you work in the law," Yarborough said. "When you're building a trial, you need evidence, right? You can't convict someone without it. Right now, you're giving yourself a very unjust trial, that fear being your sentence. But I'm seeing a lot of evidence that exonerates you. Can you?"

"We had a nice night together Friday," Hermione said. Yarborough nodded. "Ron calmed down after… after the boggart. He said that he didn't feel that way, but that's just because he knew I was upset."

"Now don't do that," Yarborough said. "Don't give the prosecution more for its case. You're on the side of the defendant."

"Ron said he didn't feel that way," Hermione amended.

"Take his word at face value," Yarborough said. "And maybe help him with his defense as well. The world likes to think that women need reassurance and men can just barrel through, but we all need it. When you both are confident that the other has respect for your opinion and being, then when arguments arise, it won't jump to that combative place so quickly."

Hermione tried to take this to heart. Every evening before Ron left, she would tell him something she appreciated about him, making sure that whatever she chose wasn't related to Rose and Hugo, remembering other conversations she had with Yarborough. That Friday night had been another of soft discussion and tender embrace.

 _He's just going to leave me to be on my own Monday_ , the nasty voice in her head taunted.

 _But he's here now_ , the other argued back, suppressing the desire to be cross at the idea.

Saturday morning she made breakfast. They got the kids looking smart, putting on jackets and she knelt down, cleaning the last of the syrup from Hugo's mouth. Angelina was having a baby shower and Ron was going to take Rose and Hugo to Diagon Alley, having a day out with George.

"No wandering off," Hermione said to Hugo. He had developed a tendency to dash away at inopportune moments. She turned and gave Rose a kiss on her cheek as well. "Listen to Dad, Rosie."

Ron took each of their hands and leaned down as Hermione stood, giving her a kiss. "Have fun at the shower," he said.

Hermione snaked her arms around his middle, tilting her head up towards him as she slipped a folded slip of paper in his back pocket. Ron kissed her again. "I'll see if there's any new titles at Flourish and Blotts."

"Thanks," Hermione said. She watched as they all walked out the front door, then turned to finish getting ready. She still needed to wrap her present as well.

Angelina beamed at her party, ready to pop at any moment. The baby shower was at her mother's house and everything was decorated pink and frilly for the coming girl. Hermione sat between Ginny and Luna. There had been a couple games and lots of mingling with everyone.

"Sorry about last week," Ginny said when everyone else was distracted. "I was just hoping—"

"It's okay," Hermione said. "We've talked a bit since."

"Good," Ginny said. "I'm glad."

Several people were just starting to head out, Hermione and Ginny began to help with clean up when a woman not much older than them opened the door.

"Angelina," she said, gasping. "Did you hear? Diagon Alley?"

Hermione froze, a stack of baby clothing in her hands.

"What?" Angelina asked, confused.

"Something's happened on Diagon Alley," she gasped, heading over to the wireless, flipping it on and tuning it quickly.

"...the barrier seems to be covering a large section of the northwest portion of Diagon Alley, incorporating some of the major shops and businesses. This includes Flourish and Blotts, Gringotts, and the owl post. Authorities are still searching for a way to break through, but it is estimated that over two hundred people and many more goblins are currently confined. All seem to have…"

"George!" Angelina cried out loudly. "George is there!"

Hermione dropped the pile on a side table.

"I have to get down there," she said, her heart racing.

Ginny grabbed her wrist and they two headed straight for the door as Angelina's mother held her there, trying to calm her while holding Fred on her hip.

Ginny and Hermione apparated together just outside the Leaky Cauldron where there were already crowds gathering around an impossibly tall wall that looks as though it were made of glass. There was no one on the streets on the other side. Ginny moved before Hermione could think straight.

"Harry!" Ginny shouted, running over to him, holding his arms and speaking fast. Hermione moved towards them.

"What's happening?" Hermione asked.

"We're trying to figure that out," Harry said. "I just got here. I had to wait until Molly could come watch the kids."

Hermione heard the panic of others, watching as civilians without connections to the Ministry were pushed back and told to wait behind another line. She looked towards Diagon Alley again. "Harry, they're all in there," she said, shaking.


	13. Muggle Artifacts

**A/N:** So I have a food for thought question. I had a few people mention Ron and the spider boggart. Some were really supportive of the idea that it's still his boggart, some pointed out that they thought it wouldn't be the same thing still. Frankly, I agree. I was kind of between a rock and a hard place, because the moment was about Hermione and her realizing her own fear, whereas Ron was stepping in to keep her from getting hurt when she freezes up. To keep it from getting really complicated, I kept his as a spider. However, it's made me start thinking... could wizards and witches with more skill control their boggart? Like if they were stepping in knowing what they were combating, could they focus on the fear they were presenting? In which case, Hermione's came out uncontrolled. And maybe with Molly in OotP, she was so completely overwhelmed by that particular fear there was no setting it aside? Thoughts would be appreciated!

Anyway, I hope you like this next chapter. I was going to place this entire conflict in a single chapter, but it was getting a little long already, so at least one more chapter after this! Thanks for the reviews! I definitely appreciate it!

 _ **Muggle Artifacts**_

"Daddy, look at that broom!" Hugo gushed, staring into the shop window.

Ron couldn't help but feel glad that there may be a day he could buy that for his son; give him a great broom once he was at Hogwarts. And he didn't have to give up time to do it. George was already talking long term with him, saying they may move up the probationary period and Ron couldn't be more excited about the prospect.

"You'll have to save some serious allowances for that," Ron still said.

"What about for Christmas?"

"Maybe in about ten Christmases."

Hermione had been working on counting and letters with Hugo, and so he started to go through the numbers trying to figure out just when that would be. Rose tugged on his hand, wanting to go into the animal shop next door.

"Daddy, let's get a cat," Rose said.

"We need to ask Mum about that first," Ron said, tempering her immediate enthusiasm.

"But we can keep it at your flat," she calculated.

"No," Ron said. "Someday whatever's at the flat will have to go back home."

Rose pouted at her loss of leverage, but Ron pulled Hugo from the Quidditch shop window to go look at the cats. George finally showed up as they were coming out.

"Where's Fred?" Ron asked. "I thought you were bringing him with?"

"Angelina's mum kept dropping hints that she wanted him to stay," George said with a shrug. "Figured I'd still come hang with you lot."

"Uncle George," Rose said, indicating a secret. George bent down and she whispered none-too-softly in his ear. "If I get a cat, can he live in the flat above your shop?"

George looked up at Ron with a grin. "Well if it were up to me, I'd say yes," George said. "Absolutely. But I've always been nicer than your Dad."

"Thanks a lot," Ron said with a roll of his eye.

"Uncle George is okay with it!" Rose argued immediately. She continued with a litany of pleadings to get a cat as they moved on to Flourish and Blotts.

Rose was finally distracted, reading through some children's books and Hugo was mesmerized by a book with a man who was blowing up like a balloon on the cover. Ron noticed there was a leather bound anniversary edition of _Hogwarts a History_ , and found another book he thought Hermione might enjoy, gathering up selections from each of the kids. Rose wanted to carry the bag. The three of them started to wander aimlessly, enjoying the sunshine.

"We have to go to Uncle George's shop still!" Hugo said with a gasp.

"It's Daddy's shop, too," Rose said with a roll of her eyes.

Hugo blinked as if he had just realized something. He looked up at Ron, uncertainly. "It's yours?"

"Uncle George and me work there together," Ron said with a nod.

"One more look at the broom first!" Hugo demanded, letting go of Ron's hand and rushing quickly around the corner.

"Hugo!" Ron shouted after him. He looked over and made sure George had Rose as he dashed after his son.

Just as he was turning the corner, the ground shook. People in the streets stopped, several screamed. Ron kept moving, looking through a dense crowd, calling Hugo's name. Hugo had stopped in the middle of the cobblestone street, looking skyward. Ron followed his eye line. Something almost transparent was moving up, doming around them, around Diagon Alley. Ron dashed forward, scooping Hugo up and turning just as a new wave of screams began. He rounded the corner again not looking back. George had picked Rose up as well and turned to run alongside them.

"The shop!" George said. They were one street over and cut across an alley. Ron pulled out his wand as George did the same. They came to the street and pulled up short, seeing a grey-haired creature tackle a witch to the ground, ripping and tearing at her shoulders as she screamed, pushing it back.

"Red caps!" George said, aiming a hex right at the little misshapen elf.

It rolled off of her, looking back at George with a snarl, red eyes wide. Rose squealed and dug her face into George's shoulder. Ron moved forward, putting out a hand and pulling the woman up as George pushed the creature back again. Ron supported the woman from one side as she limped along. They were to the door when five more came bounding, leaping down the street. Some witches and wizards had their wands out and defending. Others were diving into the nearest shop.

George went into his shop first. The woman leaned against the doorframe for support as Ron handed Hugo to George.

"Stay with your Uncle!" he shouted, then headed onto the street, sending jinxes and curses to the red caps aiming to attack, ushering people through the shop door. There was a jolt as the dome closed at the seam. Ron sent another spell, but nothing happened. He froze. He sent another. Nothing.

One wizard, at the end of the way, was tackled by a red cap and others ran. One came out from the right, another man with his daughter stumbling back. Ron ran forward, throwing his arm out down low. The red cap, concentrated on the other two victims, didn't even notice Ron there. It flipped over and landed hard on the cobble stone. Ron pulled the two to their feet, pushing them by the shoulder towards the shop.

He was the last one through, pulling the door closed, holding it there.

"Lock it!" Ron said.

One of the women that worked for them threw the lock and stepped back with a start as the recovered red cap hit the shop window, snarling with blood on its sharp teeth, eyes manic.

Rose and Hugo both wiggled down from George's arms and Ron opened his own, taking them both to him, pulling back to examine each. "You alright?" he asked.

Hugo's eyes were wide and Rose was tearing up. "It got you!" Rose said, pointing to his shoulder, splattered in blood.

Ron hadn't seen this and pulled the fabric from his skin. "It was just from helping," Ron said. "I'm not hurt, okay? We're going to be okay."

George ushered people around the shop, ordering his staff to create space in the store rooms and for everyone else to keep away from the windows. Red caps were still strolling back and forth along the streets, looking for easy victims.

"Rose, Hugo, go with Petrosinella," Ron said, handing them off to one of their more reliable clerks. "Watch Hugo closely, please."

Petrosinella nodded, surprisingly calm compared to those around her. Rose struggled to let go of Ron's hand but he nodded and promised he would be right back as he joined George.

"What is going on?" George said.

Ron looked out the window with him. "Look familiar?" Ron asked.

Understanding came over George. "The barriers," he said. "The ones—"

"I was investigating, yeah," Ron said.

"Were there ever red caps?" George asked.

"No," Ron said. "But they were never this large either. This has to cover a good portion of Diagon Alley."

"Okay," George said taking in the information. "What else do we know?"

"Can't get in, can't get out," Ron said. "My wand stopped working. Others stopped being able to defend, too."

"So we can't get a patronus message to the outside," George noted. "Even if it would get through."

"Shit," Ron muttered.

They were both watching outside when a loud voice echoed across the area. "Stay where you are," a male voice said. "Stay, and you remain safe. Leave, and you will continue to suffer."

Ron moved to the back, finding Rose and Hugo as the voice repeated this message three times. They were both tucked into Petrosinella and immediately lunged for him when he arrived. George was making the rounds, checking on those that had been injured. The shop appeared to have been fairly busy before the barrier began to move, including about two dozen other children. Ron sat with his own, holding tight and speaking reassuring words.

"Uncle Harry will get them," Hugo said at one point and Ron forced a smile, hoping Hugo was right.

Five minutes passed and the warning rang out again. The injured they had with them all were bandaged the best they could, unable to use magic to suture the wounds. The worst was the woman George had saved, who was laid out, a broken leg and a heavy loss of blood.

George came by Ron again, squatting down beside him and the kids. "Okay, we have to figure how to get out," George said.

"That's the bit of our schematics we were missing," Ron replied. "Remember?"

"There was always a weak point," George said. "Always."

"Right," Ron said. "But it was almost impossible to tell just where."

"But if we do some kind of curse… one that bulges. People will be inside anyway. Anyone that's not behind this, that is," George said.

If they did that kind of curse or hex, it would follow all the edges of the dome. Anyone out in the open might be affected, aside from the caster or anyone privy to what was about to happen and could shield themselves, and more importantly it would expose the crack—the weakness—wherever it was.

"What am I saying, we can't use our wands," George corrected himself.

"They can't hold the barrier without magic."

"There's a place where it's possible," George came to the same conclusion as Ron. Ron nodded. "Okay, so we figure out where they're at."

"That's our battle ground," Ron said. "If we're lucky, at least. We need to find other things that will work without additional casting, though."

"If we can, we also need to get people out of the way," George said. "Warn the others."

"The ground," Ron said. "It can't penetrate the ground."

"How does that help us?" George said.

"The basement," Ron countered.

"There's a grate into a muggle pipe system," Petrosinella said from where she sat.

"How do you know that?" Ron asked.

"There was one night that Jeremy left the Pygmy Puff cage open," Petrosinella explained. "A bunch ended up down in the basement and went through a vent. They were all stopped at that grate."

"I'll go check it out," George said. "Wait here."

"I'll show you," Petrosinella added, standing and walking to the back of the store room.

Ron sat against a display of love potions, pulling Rose and Hugo closer to him. "Don't look out the window," Ron kept telling Rose as her attention kept tugging towards the smeared red along one of the panes of glass.

Ron pulled the bag of books from Rose's hands, pulling one out and started to read, the sounds of other parents whispering to whimpering children as Ron waited. George came back, out of breath, but with a certainty that gave Ron hope.

"There's a gap. It's small, but I think we can work with it," George said.

"To do what?" Ron asked. "Were you able to do magic?"

"No," Petrosinella said.

The crowd gathered tightly around them, everyone hoping for answers. Ron set Rose and Hugo to his right and stood, telling Rose to read to her brother.

"So what are you thinking?" Ron asked. "If we can't do magic—"

"We can get the kids out of here," George said. "There's an underground tunnel system between the shops for emergencies. Assuming we can make sure there are people to intercept them at the first exit on the muggle side, we can go around to the other shops and get as many of the children to safety as possible."

"What about the rest of us?" A younger man asked. He wore a scowl.

"It's too small," George said. "And we can't expand the muggle end of it if our wands aren't working. There's no guarantee there won't be problems if the others try either. It could collapse the whole thing."

"So we're all just going to sit here and wait for the red caps to decide they'd like as well in the shops as on the streets, eh?" he said.

A girl that couldn't have been much older than Rose began to cry in earnest.

"If you're not going to help, why don't you at least not make things worse and shut your mouth, you prick," George snapped at him. "If you don't appreciate having shelter here, you're welcome to face the red caps on your own."

The man scowled, but seemed to think it was best to follow George's suggestion to shut up.

"How can we know someone will be there?" a woman with an arm wrapped around her son asked with a shaky voice.

"That's the next problem," George said, looking to Ron.

The Ministry had to be there by now. They had to be trying to piece things together on the other side of the barrier. Every time one had popped up, though, their previous tactics didn't work. It was like someone was testing them out… like the ones before this weren't the end goal. Understanding struck Ron and he knew he needed to talk to Harry. Or someone in the auror department.

"What if we got an owl…" Ron said.

"Daddy?" Rose said.

"Just a minute," Ron said. "If we get an owl, give it a letter—"

"Dad—"

"—and send it through the tunnels first."

"It won't be able to push up any cover on the street," Petrosinella said, shaking her head. "And we have no idea where an exit might lead. If there is one at all."

"If it was a small owl," Ron said. "A miniature. Or we could do a shrinking charm."

"Can't do magic," George remind him.

"Daddy…"

"What, Rose?" Ron turned to her.

"I want to call Mum," she said.

Ron blinked at her for several moments. "The phone," he muttered.

He pulled the cell phone from his back pocket. It was so rarely used that it had become this strange appendage he carried about with him. Ron had never even made an outgoing call, although on occasion Rose wanted to use it to call Hermione or her friends.

"What's that?" the surly man asked.

"Do you think it will work?" George added, ignoring him just as Ron did.

Ron concentrated on the phone, though, recalling how to ring Hermione. Her name was listed along with the Bringhurst Academy and the Grangers, just in case it was ever needed, but he fumbled around until that list popped up and he pressed her name. He held the phone to his ear, ignoring everyone else as he paced to a more empty space nearby. It rang over and over. The ringing was slightly static and he wondered if anything was really happening. Then there was a shuffling and the steady rhythm of the ringing was interrupted.

"Ron?" Hermione's shaky voice was on the other end. "Ron, is that you?"

Ron let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Yes, yes it's me!"

"Ron, what's happening?" her teary voice came through. "Where are Rose and Hugo? Are they alright?"

"We're all okay," Ron said. "Hermione, are you with Harry?"

There was some clanking and shuffling. "I put you on speaker," Hermione said.

"On what?"

"Harry can hear you," Hermione said. "We both can."

"Ron, what's going on in there?"

"I think everyone that was in the area when it started is in some shop or another," Ron said. "No deaths on our stretch, from what I can tell. Attacks stopped once we were off the streets."

"Attacks?" Harry asked.

"They've got red caps."

Harry cursed on the other end. "Alright, what else?"

Ron filled him in on everything he had noticed, everything that had happened since the barrier developed. How they didn't have magic and then went on to explain about George's idea for getting the children out of Diagon Alley.

"Get me a muggle city planning map!" Harry shouted the order, his voice breaking up here and there. "Focus around the areas extending from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes!"

"Harry, you aren't going to be able to use anything that worked before," Ron added.

"Why not?"

"They were testing it out," Ron said, floating his theory. Saying it out loud seemed to solidify the thoughts and somehow they ringed true. "All those little ones. They were all for this. They were all prototypes. They never broke the same way twice. We were helping them run trials."

Harry was silent for a bit. "Alright, we'll brainstorm over here."

"Daddy, I want to talk to Mum," Rose said again.

"Me, too," Hugo added.

"Alright," Ron agreed. "How do I get this on… the listening… everyone… thing?"

Hermione told him what button to push and Ron squatted down between his children, holding the phone upward.

"Hugo? Rose?" Hermione's voice broke through again.

"Hi, Mum," Rose said as though it was just a normal conversation. "We're being brave."

"I know you are, sweetheart," Hermione said. Ron could imagine her choking back her emotion to not worry the two of them. "You listen to your dad, okay? I'm here helping find a way to get you out, alright?"

"Daddy got you a book about Hogwarts," Hugo added. Ron couldn't help but grin. Of all the things Hugo could say in that moment, of course he would spoil any existing surprise. "But we didn't get to have lunch yet. I'm hungry."

"We'll go somewhere good to eat when you get out, alright?" Hermione said. "I love you. Mum loves you both so much."

The tears became more apparent in the final words. "Say goodbye to Mum," Ron nudged them. "I have to talk to her for a bit."

"Love you, Mum," Rose said.

"See you!" Hugo added.

Ron stood again, pushing the button so only he could hear. "We'll wait until Harry gives the go ahead and then try the tunnels," he said.

"Okay," Hermione said. "I can call you back soon. I think the battery might go down faster if you stay on the line."

"Hermione," Ron said.

"What?"

"I'll keep them safe, alright?"

There was silence for a few moments. "I know," Hermione said. "Please keep yourself safe, too…"

"I will." Ron hung up the phone and told the room what was said. There was a little relief among those with children at least, even if the other adults paced around.

Ron turned to George and Petrosinella. "We need to see what in here works still. What can be used for distractions or help us move safely about if we need to."

"I might have some invisibility items in the back," George said.

"Think they'll work?" Ron asked.

"If the charms have already been made, I would think so," George replied. "We can test them at least."

"I know where!" Petrosinella said, dashing away.

"When this is all over, remind me to give her a raise," George said. "What are you thinking?"

"Once we get the children out, we talk to Harry about an inside-outside effort. The weak spot is usually centered around the caster," Ron said. "We expose it, Harry's team exploits it."

"Uncle George, I'm hungry," Hugo complained again.

George shuffled around the shop, grabbing chocolate and candies to hand around to any of the children complaining. Some of the adults, for that matter. Petrosinella found the box of merchandise. When George tried a hat on, he disappeared completely.

The surly man dodged for the box and Ron stepped forward, pulling his wand and pointing it at him out of habit.

"You can't keep those to yourselves!" the man shouted, having stopped out of a similar impulse.

"Back off," Ron growled as George appeared again. The crowd was pressing towards them. "These will be given to anyone going outside."

He stepped forward, anger and fear competing as he shoved Ron. George didn't hesitate to grab one arm, twisting it forcefully behind the man's back until he groaned in pain. Petrosinella tossed George a pair of cuffs. A joke, really, to hook friends to random objects and see how long it took them to free themselves. George got it around one wrist, then the other. The man would never manage without looking at it.

"Looky there, those work, too," George said with a smirk. There were some complaints in the crowd. "Anyone who doesn't like it will be next!"

There were a few uncertain glances towards the cursing man, who George was escorting into an office. He shut the door on him.

"Alright, then," George said. "Anyone with children, towards the back. When we get the call with instructions we want to be ready to move."

This progress seemed a distraction for a while. It was another ten minutes before Ron's phone rang.

"From what we can tell, that's a dead water line set up next to you," Harry informed Ron. "We have someone at the bottom of the ladder, but it's too small—"

"Too small for an adult," Ron finished. "Yeah, I figured."

"We're only about a hundred yards from the edge of the Diagon Alley boundary," Harry said. "Do you have anything you can send them through with that has a light?"

George and Petrosinella rushed into action, finding products that glowed.

"We'll find some."

"Alright, then let's get this moving," Harry instructed.

"You lot follow me," Ron called out to the crowd of parents and children. He held Hugo in one arm, holding Rose's hand with the other as they descended into the basement, and then down a ladder into a large and open tunnel. Several children whimpered and Rose held tighter to his hand. George had handed out glowing objects in intervals so that there was a line of oddly floating lights leading up to the spot where a grate was still tightly set.

"Hold your sister's hand," Ron said, setting down Hugo.

Together Ron and George tugged and pulled the small cover, Harry's voice issuing instructions on his end in a static mumble from Ron's pocket. It finally released in a loud clank. Ron used the dim light from the phone, inspecting the muggle side. It was mostly concrete, though there were metal bits here and there and the light didn't give them a very good scope of what they were sending the kids into.

Ron looked back at the crowd. There were about two dozen all together, including Rose and Hugo. The oldest ones were ten, maybe eleven. One tall, thin girl might have been a little older—perhaps her parents home schooled her instead of sending her to Hogwarts—and there was at least one that was under one year. That child's mother was sobbing, bouncing her baby and kissing its cheek over and over.

"Let me know when we're looking for the first," Harry called out. Ron licked his lips.

"Let's start with the oldest," Ron said, looking towards the tall girl.

Her father wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. "No," he said. "I want to know this will work."

"There are aurors waiting on the other end," Ron said. "They'll be right there to take them to the surface."

"And until they get there?" another mother asked, her son around ten.

"Send your kid first, if you think it's so safe," the man said.

Ron felt his face burn. "She is six," Ron snapped. "We can at least send someone that can defend themselves or will have a good sense of whether or not they should turn back."

"I'll do it, Dad," Rose said.

"No," Ron said, turning with an argument loaded up as Rose reached out, taking his hand.

"Dad, I can do it," Rose said.

Ron turned as others around them grumbled and argued. He lowered himself. "Rose, we have to send someone else—"

Rose stopped him, placing a hand on each of his cheeks, looking into his face in the dark, her nose close to his. "Thirty seconds of brave, Dad," she said.

Ron considered it, looking at her determination. It was the same kind of determination that he had seen so often in Hermione. He looked around, seeing the other parents, none of them willing to be the first, yet here was his daughter, fearlessly ready to take the plunge. Ron pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her, closing his eyes. "Okay," he said quietly. He pulled back. "If you see anything you shouldn't, you come back, right?"

Rose nodded. She moved to the hole. George gave Ron a look, but helped Rose with a foot up. She looked back at Ron, holding the little glowing fake wand in front of her.

Ron held out a parchment, tucking into her back pocket. Information that Ron and George had decided would give them an idea of what would happen inside, in case they lost their connection.

"You give that to Uncle Harry," Ron said. "That way he knows what to do."

Rose nodded, turned, and began crawling into the darkness.

 _Thirty_ , Ron thought. _Twenty-nine, twenty-eight, twenty-seven…_

* * *

Hermione stood at the front of a crowd with Ginny's arm around her, waiting for the first children to be brought from below. Harry had her phone and was standing on the other side of the blockade. Ron and the children's last words cycled in her mind. She hadn't told Ron she loved him. She hadn't said those words and she didn't know why, but she would say everything once Harry brought her phone back to her.

There was a flurry of activity around the hole and Harry bent down, arms reaching in. He pulled upward and Hermione's heart went faster than she ever thought possible, Rose in his arms—dirt covering her hands, knees, and feet, but otherwise looking well. Hermione reached out her arms as Harry carried Rose over.

"We have her," Harry said into the phone. "Ron, did you get that? Rose made it through."

Hermione pulled Rose into her as Rose wrapped her little arms around Hermione's neck.

"It's okay, Mum, don't cry," Rose said.

Hermione let out a choked laugh, pulling back to hold Rose's cheek in her hand. Ginny stood on the other side, petting Rose's hair as well, taking a long breath.

"This is for you, Uncle Harry," Rose added, pulling paper from her back pocket. Harry took it, then turned back towards the others, opening it up.

"Send them through," Harry said. "Let me know if you got that! Send them through!"

"Is he still on the phone?" Hermione asked, anxiety building back up.

"It's choppy," Harry replied.

Everyone waited as Hugo came next, followed by a steady stream of children, each carried to someone who knew them from the outside. Identification and reunification was conducted by a few members from the general law enforcement unit. Half the aurors were still working out how to get past the barrier while Harry and others were pulling more children out. One of the older boys had a baby attached to his front with a Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes smock. A healer took the younger, crying child to look it over as its anxious grandmother hovered nearby.

"How many more?" Harry asked, walking near Hermione again. Ron was on speaker again.

"Three right n... but George and Petro… coming back from one...shop," Ron said, his voice cutting in and out.

The three came through, then several others just after a long wait in between.

"We're…. up," Ron said.

"Repeat," Harry said loudly.

"... closing up," Ron's voice replied. "The grate, we're…. it up."

"Got it," Harry said.

"Can I talk to him?" Hermione said.

"If you can," Harry replied, handing it over, reading through the paper Rose had given him. "Everyone over here!" he shouted at those under his command.

Hermione told Hugo and Rose to stay with Ginny, walking away from the crowd as she plugged one ear with a single finger, switching the phone back and talking quickly.

"Ron? Ron are you still there?"

"... m here," he said.

"Ron, be careful," Hermione said, her heart pounding. He would take more risks now that Hugo and Rose were safe and Hermione knew it. He had known what this was and he was unlikely to just sit back and wait. "Ron, please just let Harry take care of this."

"... can't, but don't… there are... "

"Ron, I can't lose you," Hermione tried into the phone. She waited a minute. The static was still present, but she couldn't hear him say anything. "I can't handle the thought of you not being here and I need you to promise me that you won't go running into danger, Ron. Please… please, _please._ "

"...Her—ione…"

"I love you, Ron," Hermione said, tears rolling down her face, the hand with the cell phone clutching it so hard it hurt. "Ron can you hear me?... Ron?"

There was static, then three terrible beeps. Hermione pulled the phone away from her ear. The call had ended.

* * *

Ron tried the phone again up in the shop, but it didn't work anymore.

"Alright, we have about twenty altogether," George said.

As soon as Harry confirmed Rose had made it through, George and Petrosinella split, visiting as many of the shops as were connected underground. That meant everything on the block. None had as many children as Ron and George's shop, but they were also able to request any decently trained witches and wizards willing to go out with them to follow them back to the shop.

"How many invisibility hats and cloaks?" Ron asked.

"Twenty-five," George replied.

"Perfect," Ron replied, heading towards the front of the mingling crowd.

Some of the parents were sitting in various corners and along the edges now. Others geared themselves up with their wands—something they would have to remind them wouldn't be useful until they got into the main area. Some of the other Wheezes employees had pulled out anything they thought would be useful—blunt objects to bat away red caps, loud and exploding items to create distractions and confuse those behind this, and any protective items they could scrounge up.

"They're almost ready for you," Petrosinella said.

Several of the others were looking his direction. Ron took a deep breath.

"Just give me a mo," Ron requested. She nodded and moved away. He pulled the folded slip of paper from his back pocket.

He had read it quickly with a smile when Rose and Hugo were first distracted when they first got to Diagon Alley. He tried the phone one more time. It wouldn't go through.

So instead he read the words on the page.

 _My favorite moments with my Sunshine:_

 _Late night discussions  
Good morning kisses  
Dinners around the coffee table  
Stolen moments at the Burrow_

" _I wish I had done everything on Earth with you." -F. Scott Fitzgerald_

Ron turned the paper and wrote quickly, his handwriting more slanted and harder to read than her perfect script.

 _You're my everything._

Ron swallowed and folded it back up, sticking it in his pocket. He hoped he would be the one to deliver it.

He walked out of the office.

"Alright, here's the plan."


	14. Radical

**A/N:** Sorry! I know that was a longer wait than I've had you all used to. I had some stuff to take care... some of it may have been fun stuff, but still. :) One more chapter after this. If you've been reading along and haven't reviewed (or reviewed for a while) I would love to hear from you! I really enjoy all the reviews I've gotten so far! Thank you!

 _ **Radical**_

"Alright, one more time," Ron said, looking at the band of witches and wizards who had volunteered. There was one older woman who already had a broken arm. George had talked her into staying behind and being in charge of moving everyone to the tunnels if things went south. Another man had backed out, pale and shaking, when the details came to light.

Petrosinella stood beside George, wand in one hand and an invisibility cap in the other. She would go with them into the square. They had disagreed at first, until she went through a rapid list of why they could use a third person with them. The details were as clear as they were going to get. Ron just wanted to give Harry plenty of time to organize on the outside. Without the phone, there was no way to know they were in place for sure, but it was better to give them more time than less.

"Best guess, the center of this is around Gringotts," Ron said. "A robbery, probably."

"I still don't get it," a younger wizard said. "There's got to be less complicated ways to get gold than to coerce red caps."

"There are far more dangerous things kept at Gringotts. It's probably not the gold they're after," Petrosinella said.

Ron looked to the three they had decided would be head of the groups causing diversions. "You three are going to lead your people to the major roads. Deposit the fireworks, but don't set them off until you're ready to get out of sight. We will give you fifteen minutes. Once they're off, find cover. Drop down into the sewer if you get caught up for any reason, but don't be out any longer than you need to."

They all nodded solemnly as George, Ron, and Petrosinella circled between them.

"Alright, we spread out," Ron said. "When we're entering, we won't know exactly when we're in range to use our wands. Close enough to work together, far enough to cover the span. George is going to send up a jolting jinx. We get in range of the magic center and shield when that happens."

The other two nodded.

"And if we see others exposed, you and me will be in charge of protecting them," Petrosinella added.

Ron looked at his watch. It had been forty minutes since the last of the children had gone through. George told everyone to get ready and Ron put a hand on Petrosinella's shoulder.

"You be careful," Ron said. "George and I have had our fair share of experience."

"Honestly? I always thought it would be fun to go into the academy," Petrosinella said. "Don't worry about me."

Ron opened his mouth to ask a question, but George was at the door, everyone else invisible. He gave a jerk of his head. Ron and Petrosinella put on their own invisibility items and moved towards the others. They each had clickers in their hands so that the others would know where they were any given moment. If they saw red caps, they would use various sticks and some bricks from the back of the shop to defend themselves the best they could.

There was a soft woosh of with the movement of the robes as the various groups exited. Petrosinella reached out for Ron's elbow, touching him until they began to move forward. Ron whistled and George threw on his own hat, disappearing from sight.

They walked slowly down the road. Ron saw one red cap on the other end of the alley they had come from. It was sitting on the chest of what looked like a man, though it was hard to tell from the distance. Ron swallowed. The body was covered in red and deathly still. The red cap simply played in the blood with it first finger, eyes wide like a distracted toddler. Ron had only heard stories of red caps. They generally stayed hidden in old castles, tripping up muggles for the chance to see the blood that resulted. They were fascinated by the warm liquid.

"Can we—"

"It's too late," Ron whispered back to Petrosinella somewhere to his right.

She took a steeling breath and they continued, spreading out with Ron in the middle, George to the left and Petrosinella to the right. Ron stopped as one red cap came around. It was sniffing the air, but its nose was so covered in dried blood that Ron wasn't sure it could really get his scent properly. He held still as the red cap moved within a foot of him. It sniffed up his side, narrowed its eyes, then crept along, beyond them. Ron let out a breath, watching it move well down the road before he continued forward, clicking to let George and Petrosinella know where he was.

They made their way to the main road, passing two more red caps strolling the streets. Ron wished he had some way to communicate with Harry to let him know a count. He wondered if the other groups were finding the same, though he assumed they probably were. These red caps seemed evenly paced. How anyone could control them, however, Ron didn't know. He didn't know why anyone would even try. Even elves didn't want to be associated with them and they were the most closely related.

As soon as Gringotts was in sight, Ron clicked and whistled, moving towards his left, holding his arm out until he felt George. Petrosinella seemed to feel George first as well.

"Getting friendly, there," George said to her.

"Sorry, I'm sorry," Petrosinella replied quietly.

Ron concentrated on the people in the square. Several wizards and witches patrolled the doors at Gringotts. They all wore dark, navy robes with the hoods covering their heads and, as a result, their faces. There were a dozen more red caps. Two on chains, the others were edging towards those with wands. One of the wizards threw a hex, pushing a red cap back. The red cap rose to its toes threateningly, then looked to one of the chained red caps, easing back and turning around. The wizard pointed and the red cap followed down the street indicated.

"Do red caps have a hierarchy?" George asked.

"Looks like it," Ron replied quietly. "I don't know much about them, but it seems like if they have control of those two, they have control of them all. Maybe?"

"Well, shit," Petrosinella said.

Ron nodded, even though neither of them could see him.

"Wands at the ready," Ron said. "We're close to them being useful. I don't see anyone from Gringotts. They're probably all inside. We want to secure them first, then we can blast this barrier. Or, you know, at least give Harry and his team a chance to finish it."

Then they waited. One or the other would make observations about certain members of who they were opposing; someone with a limp or the one who was issuing actual orders. George noticed one of them drop a wand into a large box sitting on the top step leading up to the bank. Petrosinella pointed out that they would have taken wands from the workers inside.

"I'll get to it and try arming who we can," Petrosinella suggested.

"That's good," Ron agreed. "Make sure you tell them to shield themselves on our signal."

Another few minutes and there were fireworks going off back where they had come from. Ron smiled, watching the figures scrambling, the leader sending some of them off to investigate. Those leaving had batons in their non-wand hand, gripping them as they moved into the space that wouldn't allow them to use magic.

"Let's go," George said.

The three moved as the second set of fireworks went off in the distance. More chaos, more panic. Ron was running when suddenly he could see George. The others had stopped, stunned to see George there. Ron froze, looking down. They could see him, too.

Ron raised his wand, sending a jinx at the closest person, blasting them off their feet before they could recover. He did this again and again as George realized they had gone through some kind of revelation wall. Ron took off the hat, throwing back a wild red cap, then pushed through two more. He was back-to-back with George, fending as many off as possible.

Ron sent a hex flying, a jet of silver light shot directly towards the hood of one of the shorter people to his right. They blocked it, sending it up and away from them. Ron swallowed as he looked around, realizing they were circled entirely. George cursed behind him, but they both stood their ground, wands up.

Ron looked around. He saw Petrosinella appear out of the corner of his eye. She must have seen what happened to them and waited. She slunk into a shadow and he saw her raise her wand to herself, performing a disillusionment charm. Ron looked away before anyone noticed his attention on her.

"What now?" George whispered behind him.

"We need more time," Ron said. The others wouldn't be covered yet. The jinx wouldn't likely kill anyone, but it certainly wasn't going to be pleasant either. Prolonged, it could cause serious damage, at least in the short term.

The leader moved to the front of the group, pulling down his hood. He was older than Ron and George, probably by a decade. He had dark grey hair and eyes to match. He had a wicked grin with a scar from the inside eyebrow on the right, down to his jaw on the left. It was as though someone had cut his face in two, the pushed one side down so that the halves didn't quite line up.

"Clever, clever," he said. "Got passed all the red caps, huh? Don't worry, we have more to finish you off."

Someone stepped up beside him, whispering into his ear. The grin faded. "You sure?" he muttered. "To Granger?"

Ron narrowed his eye.

"I guess you two might be useful," he decided. With a flick of his wand, Ron's own was being tugged from him. He gripped tighter as it continued to pull, hoping George still had his.

In his struggle to hold tight, Ron was being pulled off his feet. Another spell from a witch on the left and he was bound, tightening and moving towards one another in front of him. Someone took hold of his wand, twisting his wrist until he couldn't hold any longer. Ron fell to his knees, unable to keep his balance. Ron could barely look over his shoulder. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see three people holding George, one gripping him by the hair as another pulled his wand from his hand. They were both useless. He sneered at the man in front of him.

"Bring him to the top of the steps and bring the goblin out. Put the other inside," the man instructed. Ron was yanked and pulled, pushed up the steps. George was a few steps ahead of him, fighting just as hard, but with so many wands pointed right at them, they didn't have much choice.

At the very top, a spell jerked Ron to a halt and he watched George helplessly as his brother tried to turn back towards him.

"No!" George shouted, fighting harder as he looked over his shoulder at Ron being held still. "Geroff me!"

Ron swallowed, remembering that George had a pregnant wife waiting for him. That he had a daughter about to come. Ron shouldn't have let him come. He should have tried on his own. Then, at least, it would have only been one of them. He thought about their mother and what this would do to her, losing two more children. Then he thought about Hermione. At least the kids were safe. At least she hadn't been with them today.

Ron turned to the man, shrugging off one set of hands and standing still, wanting some semblance of control in this moment. Some sense that they couldn't get whatever they wanted.

"You've been on the Ministry's radar for a long time," Ron said quietly.

"We know," the man replied.

"So who are you?" Ron said. "What is it you're after?"

The man grinned at him. "You know, it's unfair that some people just happen to be born with magic. No explanation. Generations and generations of muggles and then… one day…"

"Go figure," Ron scoffed. "Muggleborn haters."

"No," the man said. "Not at all, in fact. We have worked for a long, _long_ time trying to even the playing field. The Ministry had a program looking into what give some people magic and others not. Why one child might have that ability while another is a squib. For ages muggles have been at the mercy of the type of people you talk about. The type that would slaughter them or use them as pawns unknowingly. Then the Ministry steps in and wipes their memories. They aren't even allowed to know they're victims."

"The Ministry does everything possible to protect them," Ron said.

"Not everything," the man countered. He waved a hand and a larger man moved forward, standing at the man's shoulder. "The Wizengamot dismantled a program that would have lead to research spreading magical abilities.

"There's a vault…" the man paced two steps down from Ron, pointing towards Gringotts. "The Ministry keeps failed or abandoned projects in there. Things they can't fully destroy, but that they've decided they would rather ignore than allow people who could do something worthwhile with them have the objects. So we're taking them."

Two more hooded figures came out, dropping a goblin onto the step beside Ron, he was curled up, beaten to a pulp. Ron bent down, reaching his hands out to the Gringotts worker. He turned his indignation back to the man. "Oh yeah, I see what good-hearted souls you all are," Ron spat.

"We didn't want it to go this way," the man said. "But then there's people in the Ministry that should have stepped up. Should have made the difference. People who would want their families to have the same privileges they've been given. People like your wife."

Ron stood slowly, feeling the heat rise up his neck.

"Of course she wanted to spend most of her time defending the animals of this world," the man snarled. "But she's been on our radar. Rising in the ranks, but ignoring her own heritage. Her own people."

"You don't know anything," Ron said in a low voice.

The man's smile just grew, his scar seemed to upturn with his smirk. "It's a nice house you all have there on Tudor Lane," he said. Ron's stomach dropped. His blood ran cold. "And those muggle schools you picked out… but when you have a chance to educate the muggles, you let the Ministry obliterate their memories instead."

There was a glint in the man's eye. "Don't worry," he whispered. "If you don't get a chance to see them again, we'll let them know you said goodbye."

Ron lunged forward and was stopped by a heavy hand across his nose. He was thrown to the side, his head hitting the marble steps as he fell. He turned onto his shoulder, the blood from his nose dripping freely down his cheek. He grunted pushing himself up, but the man had moved on, shouting out instructions to others. Ron closed his eyes, breathing heavily as he bent forward, trying to stifle the bleeding.

"No the other one!" the man shouted. "Do I have to explain every little thing?"

Ron expected they were bringing George back out. He couldn't even bring himself to worry about his brother again. Fear of what would happen if they didn't end this coursed through him. Would Harry figure out enough to provide extra protection for his family if he died here? He could only imagine red caps running through his house in the dead of night, pouncing on his children as they slept. He looked up and around him. That couldn't happen. He wouldn't let it happen.

Everyone was hooded again and the man was turned away from him after taking a few steps down. He waved his wand smoothly from left to right. The base of the clear barrier had images. No. Only one image, Ron realized. An image repeated over and over, side by side. An image of him.

* * *

Harry let Hermione and Ginny stay nearby him with Rose and Hugo. The aurors were all spread out evenly along the barrier. They were waiting for a weakness in the dome, according to Ron's instructions. They would then focus all their wand work there and move in one force, once Diagon Alley opened up again. They had even called in Magical Animal Control department to help handle the red caps. Harry worried they wouldn't be there soon enough and that the aurors would be dealing with both, but that hadn't been necessary. Their department had arrived, settled in, and they were still waiting.

Hermione expected something to happen once they had heard the fireworks. Three sets. Then nothing. Her stomach was twisting up as she picked up Hugo, running her fingers through his hair as he rested his head on her shoulder. She looked over to Rose, who was staring firmly at the barrier with the same expectation Hermione had. Ginny draped a hand on either of Rose's shoulders, jaw tight.

"Shouldn't something have happened by now?" Hermione asked Harry.

"They're probably just waiting for… something," Harry said, but it was obvious he was worried, too.

There was a flicker in a band around the base of the barrier and Hermione sighed in relief for a moment. Only a moment. This wasn't a weak point. This wasn't even the work of Ron and George. Not unless her husband had meant to be projected in front of all of them, his hands bound together in front of him, on his knees, with his face bloodied.

"Daddy?" Rose shrieked.

Hermione and Ginny acted at the same moment. Hermione put a hand on Hugo's cheek, pushing his face into her, covering his view as Ginny pulled Rose into her, holding her cheeks so he wouldn't look back. "It's okay, it's okay," she whispered frantically, to herself as much as Hugo.

Could Ron have done this as an additional distraction? God, she hoped this had been on purpose. It seemed less likely as the image pulled out, a goblin in Gringotts robes laying broken on the ground. Hermione couldn't even tell if it was alive or not.

A strange, distorted voice spoke over the image. "If you want to save yourself from casualties, there is one simple way. The goblins are being difficult. Permission from the Wizengamot to the contents of vault 236 must be sent to Gringotts within half an hour," the heavy voice said. "If it does not arrive, we will begin to let the red caps loose on one captive every fifteen minutes until it comes."

Hermione looked in horror as the matted grey hair of a red cap bounded over steps, the creature snarling on the end of a tether. It was given slack and ran at Ron. She took in a sharp breath, holding Hugo tighter. Ginny gasped from behind her as Ron rolled back, just out of reach of the red cap.

"Harry," Hermione whimpered.

"What's vault 236?" Harry asked.

Hermione couldn't look away, her bottom lip quivering as she watched Ron inch away, fresh blood pooling below his nose. It appeared to drive the red cap mad, as it pulled against its chain, snarling and growling. Even so, Ron kept looking over to the goblin and crawled over, getting up to kneel in front of the helpless goblin.

"Hermione," Harry snapped, grabbing her arm. She looked at him. His eyes were wide with worried, yet focused. More focused than she had ever seen them. "What's in vault 236?"

Hermione shook her head thinking. It was information she had received, but not used yet. She had to think hard, the image of Ron staring down at her from the front as Rose's sobs filled her ears from behind.

"Dangerous magic," Hermione said. "Experiments… objects…"

"Any idea what they would want?" Harry asked.

Hermione shook her head. "It could be anything."

Harry waved his wand, half a dozen little golden flags waved with blinking lights along the top. "Change of plans," Harry said. "Try whatever spells you can to break this down. Be ready to enter."

Harry waved his wand again and they disappeared. Moments later, spells bombarded the barrier, but Hermione was still looking at Ron, bent back against the threat of the red cap.

"I'm coming with you," Hermione said. She turned and gave Hugo to Ginny.

"No, we can't take civilians," Harry said. He began to walk away from her. Ginny had bent down, setting Hugo on his feet as she tried to distract the two of them. Hermione followed on Harry's heels.

"I'm not a civilian," Hermione snapped. "I am a member of the Wizengamot, which means I outrank you!"

Harry turned. "Outrank?" he scoffed. "Don't you think I'm just as worried? I'm doing what I can and—"

"And I'm coming with," Hermione said, her voice shaking. She pulled out her wand. "I don't need your permission. You need mine. I'm coming with."

Harry considered her a moment, then turned to the image. Ron was nudging the goblin back where he could. "You're by my side, then," Harry said. "We'll get him together."

Harry turned to the barrier, sending a jet of blue light. Hermione looked back at Ginny, thankful she seemed to have distracted Hugo and Rose. They should have taken them away as soon as they left. Most of the families were waiting a few blocks away, but Rose hadn't wanted to leave Hermione and Hermione couldn't wait, not knowing what Ron was doing. She turned back, joining the aurors in trying spell after spell after spell, each seemed impossibly weak compared to the wall in front of them. There was the occasional flicker, but it was all they could manage.

Hermione watched between spells, the image unchanging for several minutes. Then there was a burst of color, what she was seeing unclear as she set her jaw, trying to continue to work and make sense of what she was seeing at the same time. There were others coming through the doors. Wands were up, spells were being cast. Ron's hands came apart and Hermione's heart jumped to her throat as a woman helped him grab the goblin under the arms and pull them out of the way. The image distorted, then disappeared.

"Keep going!" Harry bellowed and efforts redoubled.

* * *

Someone shoved a wand into Ron's hand. He didn't question it as he turned, blasting the red cap on the chain backwards. The man in charge was in a duel with a dark skinned witch and Petrosinella was directing a group to follow her.

Ron moved down the steps quickly, throwing a red cap aside and blocking a jinx, sending it back to the caster as he looked for George. He made it to the base before he saw his brother, sending spells back and forth with a younger witch, her face furious and contorted. Ron shot a stunning spell as he ran forward and she tumbled sideways. George looked to his right seeing him.

"Someone made you look pretty," he shouted over the din, throwing another curse at an approaching red cap.

"Get it done!" Ron shouted. "Get it done!"

George sent up a red stream of light, an ear piercing shriek against the sky as it exploded high in the air. Before the sparks burst, everyone from Gringotts who had been held captive had a shield over themselves. Ron made one of his own as George made another quick movement, the sparks exploding in the entirety of the arena. The effect on those unprotected was apparent, electric currents running through their veins as they writhed in pain, dropping to the ground in front of those they had fought.

Ron looked up, watching for the break in the wall. Just to the right of where they were, a fissure began taking shape. George held the spell, the little sparks growing and compiling, moving to get out of the whole it was creating.

Looking around them again Ron noticed something he hadn't before: the spell… it didn't do anything to the red caps. They were pushing up against several shields, the people behind them protected. But George didn't have a shield. He was only immune to the spell as the caster. Ron looked to the left, seeing a grey, snarling creature, its chain no longer held by the initial captors, running full speed.

Calling George's name would end the spell that was going to free them. Ron dropped his own wand to his side, the shield thinning around him as he ran towards the creature. He felt the electric sensation as a gentle buzz before he hit him full force. Ron gritted his teeth, lowering his aim. He intercepted the red cap, falling over it on the ground. The jolts continued, pulsing and painful as he wrestled with the red cap, screaming as its claws scraped across his chest, tearing through his shirt and into his chest.

Ron was on his back, arms pushing up to keep those stained, crusted teeth away from him. The jolts ended and he was losing strength. Another swipe from the red cap ripped through his side when the creature went flying. He gasped, holding his side as he tried to sit up. Tried to see what was happening around him.

"Ron!" George shouted, sliding to where Ron's head rested. He eased Ron's head back onto his lap. "Don't move… it's okay, help is coming… just… don't move…"

* * *

The static from the spell inside put the hair on Hermione's arms on end. Everyone stopped, waiting as it caused a crevice, clear and freckled with sparks as it grew.

"Now!" Harry shouted.

A dozen spells were aimed at the growing hole immediately. Hermione watched the rest of the dome, cracking like shattering glass, the cracks moving and widening and then it was gone. With a thundering boom, the barrier was gone. Aurors rushed in as Harry grabbed her elbow and they moved together inside, running down the street. Several members from both teams were subduing the red caps, disabling them as they continued to move.

Dozens of people in hooded cloaks were on the ground, gasping and unable to move. Hermione scanned the square in front of Gringotts. She saw George first. Her face went pale and she picked up her speed, running ahead of Harry as she fell beside Ron, taking his face into her hands. He was groaning, holding his side and she looked him over, blood still oozing from the claw marks.

"Ron," Hermione's voice trembled. "Ron, I'm here! Ron!"

Someone dropped to his other side, running their wand over him, whispering incantations, though the bleeding didn't stop. She looked over, recognizing the girl. Lakshmi. Parvati's cousin.

"It's not helping," Lakshmi growled.

Hermione turned back to Ron. George held his head still as Ron's back arched, his breathing short and hard. Harry was beside Hermione now, working as much as Lakshmi. Ron's hand reached out, groping around towards her. Hermione removed a hand from his jaw, taking his.

"I'm right here, Ron," Hermione said, moving her face closer to his.

"Medics over here!" Harry shouted between more attempts.

"The note," Ron groaned.

Hermione looked at him, holding his hand to her heart, stroking his hair with her other. "Ron, just concentrate on me, okay? Just look at me."

He tried. His eyes opened and closed. He blinked at her.

"Look at me, Ron," she begged. "Just concentrate and we'll get you out of here in a minute. Just look at me."

But he didn't have it in him. The more he tried, the less energy each attempt had. His eyes closed as his breaths became shallow. A team of medics surrounded them. The others stepped back a stretcher was magicked beneath him, lifting him. Ron slipped away, but she didn't let go, following as they rushed him to St. Mungo's.

* * *

 _Sixteen days later_

Hermione sat in a conference room in St. Mungo's. It was technically empty, but this wasn't a normal conference room. This one could tap into other meeting spaces. She had reserved it for a meeting with the committee on which she sat. She looked at her watch.

"I'm sorry, but the hour's up," Hermione said.

Butler gave a gruff sigh. "Mrs. Granger, we have more—"

"You will excuse me," Hermione interrupted him firmly. "I believe I have been more than fair with my time, considering the circumstances. Aside from the fact that my reservation of the room is at an end—"

"You could have them extend—"

"—my husband needs my attention," she talked over him. "Send owls to my home and I will answer them when it is most convenient for me and my family. If you don't like that, you can take it up with my supervisor, though I will warn you I have his complete support."

Butler mumbled. Shacklebolt just smiled at her.

"I hope Ron wakes soon," Shacklebolt said. "We're wishing you both well, Hermione."

"Thank you, Minister," Hermione said.

She pressed a button in front of her, leaving the meeting. She sat back in her chair and let out a breath.

The healers said they had never seen anything like it. The jinx's effect on the exposed flesh was their best guess as to why it had been so bad, though it was still just that… a guess. Hermione didn't leave his side for the first forty-eight hours. When he was stable after twelve hours, she sent an owl to Harry and Ginny, who brought the kids the next morning to sit with Ron. Rose talked to Ron, telling him about how she missed him and that she was going to write him a story to read when he felt better. Hugo didn't seem able to completely understand what was happening that first day.

"Daddy, you need to wake up," Hugo said, shaking his shoulder as though Ron were just playing a game. "You're supposed to read me Rabbity-Babbity tonight. Remember?"

It was on the third day that Molly came and insisted she would sit with Ron while Hermione got some rest. Instead she went home, took a shower, spent an hour or two with the kids, then came back, the two women sitting on either side of him.

"I remember what he said the morning of your wedding," Molly said with a grin, running her thumb along the back of Ron's hand. "It impressed me, because none of my boys seemed anything but excited for their wedding. But I remember… he had this solemn look and he told me, 'Mum, I will have to work hard to deserve her.' I was so proud of him caring so much about who he was becoming. I was already so proud of who he was."

Hermione just teared up, looking down at his peaceful face, raising his other hand to her cheek. Shacklebolt sent a message about the meeting and possibly postponing. Molly was there when Hermione got it and insisted she would be there so Hermione could do whatever she needed. Molly was also there with Ron every afternoon when Hermione went to pick up Rose and Hugo, knowing that Ron would want her to do it since he couldn't. She would bring them to St. Mungo's for about an hour, then take them to Harry and Ginny's for the evenings. Sometimes she would stay for dinner, if Molly insisted she needed some time outside of the hospital.

George had been by his fair share as well. Angelina went into labor five days after the incident and the two brought their daughter into the room before going home with her. Hermione held their niece, knowing Ron would have loved doing so himself. It was such a good moment after so much pain. George felt guilty, Hermione could tell.

"If I had noticed…"

"It's not your fault," Hermione insisted, though the more bitter part of her wished their injuries had been more equal. But then Ron had been targeted because he was her husband. She didn't want to talk about it because she felt as guilty as George. She should have made sure Ron didn't go in there.

Hermione walked back to the hospital room after the conference. Molly hummed to herself, knitting something, which stopped mid row as she looked up.

"The healers said the wounds are almost cleared up," Molly said cheerfully.

"They came while I was gone?" Hermione said.

"Just for a moment, dear," Molly replied. "They gave him a new potion. They didn't want to use it until there weren't any cuts for blood to come through, if it thinned out. I had them write the name of it down for you on the notepad."

"Okay," Hermione said. She sat on the edge of the bed, playing with Ron's hair, growing terribly long. "Well, thank you."

"Of course," Molly said. "I was going to have Ginny bring all the kids over for dinner tonight. Will you join us?"

"I'm going to stay," Hermione said. "If you can stay tomorrow afternoon and evening, I wanted to take Rose and Hugo to a museum. There's a children's activity day."

"Of course. Arthur and I will be by around two."

"Thank you."

Molly crossed the room, giving Hermione a hug and a kiss to her temple. A warm, encouraging squeeze before leaving. Hermione sat, holding Ron's hand for the first hour. The next few after that, she would write responses in between long stretches of nothing, pulling out the note that had been found in his back pocket, reading the words over and over again. She would send the owls in the morning when she stepped out to get breakfast at the cafeteria. She ignored the growing pile of edits and readings that needed to be accomplished. There would be time enough for that once Ron was okay.

As it grew dark, Hermione picked up the covers, expanding the bed space with a spell as she crawled in beside him. She realized quickly that she couldn't sleep here without feeling his warmth beside her, knowing this meant his heart was still beating, his body fighting for life. She laid her hand gently across him, adjusting herself to his shape, and watched him breathe until she fell asleep.

Ron's deep breath raising her hand nudged Hermione awake first. She lifted her head, just able to see him in the light of a lamppost through the window. She had several moments like this over the past two weeks. Moments she had imagined more movement than was really there. She looked at her watch. It was two in the morning. Her breath hitched as he squirmed next to her, swallowing.

Ron's eyelids squeezed shut and he opened them slowly. Hermione held back a sob, reaching out for his hand. His grip tightened and she bit her bottom lip.

"'mione?" he said, his voice dry and grainy.

"Yes, I'm here," Hermione said. "I'll go get the healer."

"Wai-, wai-," he muttered. She froze, her hand still in his, laying next to him. "Jus'... wai-."

Hermione watched as he took several steady breaths, looking at the ceiling, blinking out some of the sleep. With some effort he turned towards her.

"Careful!" Hermione said in quiet worry.

In the next moment his hand was cupping her cheek. She could see his blue eyes, even as their noses almost touched. "I love you," he said.

Hermione melted, one hand moving to his hip. He moved his head, kissing her on the lips. It was gentle from his lack of energy. When he pulled back, she pushed one shoulder so he laid out again, his breathing labored from even this little bit of movement. Hermione wrapped a hand around his neck, pressing a lingering kiss on his cheek. "I love you, too," she whispered. "I need to get the healers. Relax until I get back?"

Ron closed his eyes but nodded distinctly as Hermione disentangled herself from his side.

Time. They still had time.


	15. Progress

_**Progress**_

After an initial examination by a healer, Ron was worn and left to sleep. Hermione had turned off the lights and went to sit beside him, assuming he would be more comfortable without her spooned against him.

"'mione?" Ron said. "I can move over."

"You heard the healer, you shouldn't strain yourself," she said.

"I'd rather have you with me. Please?"

Hermione scooted onto the bed, even more aware of the proximity of her hands to wounds than she was before. She couldn't sleep properly, worried that she would hurt him if she moved even an inch, but loved that this time, Ron's hand was over hers, occasionally squeezing or with fingers moving against her skin.

In the morning, Ron was awake before Hermione. When she finally stirred, she sat up, asking what he wanted for breakfast. He was on a third plateful when Hermione began worrying about how she was going to get Rose and Hugo here.

"I suppose an owl wouldn't get to your parents in time... and I don't know if they've been to the kids' schools. They are on the list... if I hurry I could catch Ginny through floo? But I think she had said something about a conference this week..."

Ron was looking at her, waiting. Hermione stopped.

"I'll still be here when you get back," he promised.

"Right... right, okay," she said, gathering her coat and kissing Ron before rushing out.

Hermione moved fast, as though there were a part of her that wasn't certain he could actually promise what he had. Harry and Ginny were just feeding everyone when she arrived. Rose happily dropped her backpack when Hermione said they weren't going to school so they could see their dad.

"Why don't I go with you," Harry suggested, setting aside his coffee. "I don't have any meetings until the afternoon."

"Want me to let Mum and Dad know?" Ginny asked.

"Yes, please, that would be great."

"Do we get to go see Uncle Ron?" James asked from behind his cereal bowl.

"No, you get to go see your teacher at school," Ginny said.

"But Rose doesn't have to go to school!" James argued.

"Yeah, I want to see Uncle Ron," Albus joined in.

They continued to fight with Ginny on the matter, finding counters to the idea of too many people and Uncle Ron needing rest, and any other reasoning Ginny gave. They were in the middle of another when Harry put Hugo on his shoulders, groaning about how Hugo was almost too big for that, and he walked with Hermione to the curb to catch the Knight Bus.

As soon as they were at St. Mungo's Rose was tugging hard on Hermione's hand, all the way up the lift and down the corridor of the floor. Hugo broke away from Harry first, though, darting into the room while the rest caught up.

"DAD!" Hugo shouted with reckless abandon, scrambling up the side of the hospital bed and flinging himself at Ron.

"Careful!" Hermione said quickly. "Hugo, don't—"

"It's okay," Ron groaned out, clearly nursing one side as he adjusted Hugo, whose arms were wrapped around Ron's neck. Rose was more cautious, crawling up beside him as she burst into tears. She hadn't cried once since Ron's image appeared on the side of that barrier.

"What is it?" Ron asked, wiping her tears as she tried to talk, completely incomprehensible.

Hermione sat next to the bed, running her hands over Rose's curls, as she blubbered. Ron focused intently on her nodding (though Hermione was sure he understood as little as she did) as Harry stood in the corner, trying to suppress a grin. Finally, Rose seemed to have gotten through everything she wanted to say, falling onto Ron's shoulder, her arms fighting Hugo's for space around Ron's neck.

"It's alright, Rosie," Ron said. "It's okay."

"Don't scare m-me like that again, Daddy," Rose finally said clearly, even as she hiccuped in between her words.

Ron held both of their children for a while, asking questions as they caught him up on what was going on at school. Hermione could see him fading steadily, even before Molly burst in. She had nearly the energy her grandchildren exhibited, moving to Ron's other side. Hermione moved to the foot of the bed to give Arthur a space to be beside Ron as well. She rubbed one of Ron's feet sticking out. He turned towards her and winked as Hugo started to recount for Ron how he crawled to the end of the tunnel, Uncle Harry pulling him out of the hole in the ground. Molly moved around, getting more water for Ron, setting his pillows, and generally fussing about to keep herself busy.

Ron would wince when one of the kids would hit a sore spot, but never told them off and didn't move them away. Harry settled in, obviously in no rush to get to the office. Around eleven, Hugo started to complain about being hungry.

"Why don't we take them to get some lunch," Arthur suggested, picking Hugo up with a groan.

"That would be lovely," Hermione said. Rose hopped down, taking Molly's hand, and the four of the trudged out and down the hall.

"So," Ron said with a sigh. "You two going to fill me in, or what?"

Hermione moved to sit beside Ron as Harry began. George's jinx had disabled a good portion of the people they were fighting. There were still some that had been in Gringotts, coming to after some of the workers had revolted, and others that had taken cover in time and were trying to escape. The bigger issue had been the red caps. Luckily, with the help of the containment team, they were able to cover this as well. There had been three deaths in all, several dozens injured.

"Then there was that article in The Prophet by Caldwell," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "That was something else."

"What did he have to say?" Ron asked with a sigh. Ron looked towards Hermione. She cleared her throat.

"Caldwell interviewed a man who said George locked him up for no reason. Then Caldwell talked about how you and George going rogue caused more risk—citing the deaths, even though those happened before you two counter attacked—and made some… suggestions about how you put your own children's safety above the dozens of others."

"What?!" Ron growled, moving forward. Hermione put a hand on his shoulder.

"Calm down, please. You're still injured," she urged. "The next day the editor printed a letter from a woman whose son was with you in your shop, setting the record straight."

"Which was followed by about a dozen others, calling for Caldwell to be fired," Harry said. "Other parents… workers at Gringotts talked with reporters on the wireless about Petrosinella arming them and you sacrificing yourself as a distraction—"

"They thought that was on purpose then?" Ron asked with a smirk.

"—and all of it," Harry said. "He was trying to get everyone riled up against you, but it backfired. It was brilliant, really."

"Well, then I'm sorry I missed it," Ron said.

"You didn't miss everything," Harry replied. "We've been holding off on an award ceremony for you and George."

"And Petrosinella, right?" Ron asked. "If she hadn't done what she did, I'd be dead. You know that right?"

"George made the same fuss already," Hermione replied. "So yes, and Petrosinella."

"We're also putting her through the academy," Harry added. Ron tilted his head. "Apparently she had always wanted to be an auror, but ended up pregnant and a single mum after school. She worked to make ends meet and never could quite save enough for her daughter and to cover expenses for the academy. I put in all the recommendations for her to go to the academy on waiver and George is giving her a stipend. I think he was going to talk to you about it when you woke."

"That's great," Ron said, finally leaning back. "What did you get out of the assholes that did all that?"

Harry took a beat and looked over at Hermione. "They called themselves a muggle rights group. They wanted an amulet that was supposed to provide wearers with magic. Crusaders for muggles and squibs to be given the same abilities as wizards, and all that."

"I didn't know what it was, but afterwards I did a little research. The amulet had a lot of terrible side effects," Hermione said. "And trials proved it didn't work for muggles and squibs. In fact it often killed them... overloaded by magic, but this group didn't believe any of that. They have been fighting with the Wizengamot for ages on releasing it to them. When it was refused for the final time, they began this plan instead."

Harry picked up the next bit. "They thought if they took over the space, the goblins in charge at Gringotts would just let them have what they wanted. They were going to use the human hostages to get out without the Ministry taking them. When the goblins made it clear they weren't going to give them what they wanted, they took Hobskin and tortured him in front of the others. One of the other goblins eventually said they could only give them what they wanted if the owner of the vault authorized them."

"Are you saying the goblins would have given in?" Ron asked.

"I don't know," Harry said. "I would hope not, but I can't really blame them for doing what they had to so they stopped attacking one of their own. I'm just glad it wasn't tested."

"What kind of protection is on the house?" Ron asked.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "What house?"

Ron tensed and she put a hand on his arm, wishing he wouldn't keep pushing himself up the way he was. "Our house," Ron said.

"Why would we need protection on our house?"

Ron seemed unable to talk for a minute. Harry leaned forward, his elbows on the bed.

"They knew everything," Ron said. He was visibly shaking. Hermione moved to sit on the edge of the bed. "Harry, you didn't let them… they knew… they know…"

"They're all locked up, mate," Harry said.

"How do you know there weren't others?" Ron demanded. He was holding his side and Hermione tried to hush him. It wasn't working this time. "They know where we lived… where we live… and where the kids go to school! They said Hermione wasn't doing enough for her own kind! Harry, you didn't let my family go back in there without protection!"

"Ron, we only went back once to get clothes and Harry was with us," Hermione said calmly. She made him look at her, holding his face in her hands. "The kids have been staying with Harry and Ginny, alright? We're safe. Okay? We'll figure out the rest once you're well."

Ron swallowed. He reached one arm around Hermione, pulling her into him, kissing her forehead and holding her close as she settled beside him. Harry waited, brows still knit as Ron took a few breaths.

"They mentioned several muggleborn people in the Ministry and Wizengamot by name when we interrogated them," Harry said. "You think they would attack them specifically?"

"I think that was their next move," Ron said, his voice shaky. "Someone realized I was married to Hermione. That's why they kept me and sent George with the other hostages."

"We knew that," Hermione said. It was one of the worst revelations for her.

"I'll build a team to go put extra protection on all the people they called out," Harry said.

"I think we've talked about enough, for now," Hermione said, not wanting to hit on anything that would rile Ron up like that again.

"No," Ron said. "No, I want to know the rest."

Hermione couldn't help but notice that Harry was spinning things now, though, talking about how George was fine (Hermione interjected the announcement about his daughter, Roxanne, being born) and that there were only a handful of injuries among the hostages after they began to fight. They really had been through the worst of it already, but Harry was making everything sound even better than it was.

"That's all?" Ron asked when Harry had finished.

"That's all," Harry said. "For now."

Ron nodded. They sat silently for a few minutes until Harry started to ask Ron about what had happened on the inside of the barrier. This didn't last long. Ron didn't elaborate much and they were all ready to move onto better things. Harry was suggesting a family dinner when Ron was cleared to leave.

"Then you can meet Roxanne. Plus, the kids are all anxious to see you," Harry said.

"We should have it at the Burrow," Hermione said. "Then there will be room for everyone. Assuming they can make it."

"Good idea, boss," Harry replied with a smirk.

Hermione glared at him as he told Ron about Hermione pulling rank to go in with him. Ron laughed as Hermione talked about how Harry wouldn't let it go now, calling her "boss" at every opportunity. It would be a very long time before that was forgotten, Hermione thought.

Molly and Arthur brought Rose and Hugo back. Hermione held Hugo back so he didn't crash land on Ron again, setting him back up on the bed herself.

"You still taking them to the museum later?" Molly asked.

"Oh," Hermione said, having forgotten her plans for the day. "I don't… not with Ron awake now…"

"You should," Ron said. "I probably should rest some more as well."

Hermione thought about this. "Yeah… you're right… okay," she said. Harry excused himself and the rest of them lounged around for a while. Ron and the kids all fell asleep, one in each of Ron's arms. Hermione brought out her cell phone, taking a picture of them to send to her parents.

"So strange to see photographs that just stay still like that," Molly said.

Hermione couldn't stop staring at it, though. She looked between the picture, and the real life thing in front of her.

* * *

Ron winced.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said, pulling back her salve-covered fingers from his skin.

"It's fine," he said.

The wounds had closed in the most important ways, but there were still surface marks. It was something like perpetual rug burn that wouldn't go away. Hermione always applied the salve instead of having the healers take care of this. And she always stopped when she touched these tender areas and Ron would grit his teeth.

"Really, it's alright," Ron said.

Hermione tentatively reached out, watching his face as he tried to control his reaction (not quite succeeding), but gently dabbed, letting the concoction seep into his skin. She waited until the sting subsided before rubbing more in. Ron's hand snaked around her waist and yanked her close. Hermione smiled at him as he raised his eyebrows to her. She leaned into Ron, kissing him. Over the past week he had only grown more affectionate, more energetic. He was antsy in the room, insisting George bring him something to work on and telling Hermione to go into the office on Thursday and Friday.

Saturday evening the healers said that if nothing changed, Ron would be free the next afternoon. Hermione took the kids over to the Burrow in the morning, where Molly was rushing to get together a dinner for everyone that evening. Ginny was there, too, conducting the kids in decorating with a large banner and balloons.

And here Ron and Hermione took their time, Ron holding Hermione's face close to his, stroking the skin on her neck.

"Can I talk to you about something without ruining all of this?" Ron asked.

Hermione swallowed. "Sure," she said quietly.

"How do we keep this?" Ron asked. "I mean, is this just something happens when things go terribly wrong?"

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.

"It's like… well… this has happened every time one of us has been in danger right? We fight and argue and then I'm poisoned or you're attacked and it's good for a while because it reminds us… you know, what it would be like not having the other person," Ron said. He licked his lips. He was treading carefully.

"But then we forget," Hermione finished for him. He nodded slowly.

"I love this, really I do," Ron said.

"Me too," Hermione replied.

"What would it be like to not fight?" Ron asked.

Hermione thought about this. Ron decided he wanted to move home when he was released from the hospital. Hermione was thrilled that their time living apart was at an end, but this was accompanied by apprehension, knowing the reason was because Ron was terrified of the potential threat—no matter how small—that someone would still target Hermione or their children. Knowing what he knew, Hermione couldn't say she didn't have her own worries along these lines, the least of which were his motives for coming back.

"We can do that," Hermione said. Ron worried his bottom lip. "No, we really can. I know how much you've done to make that happen. I know… I know I'm not the easiest person—"

"Don't," Ron cut her off. "I don't want this to be about you or me… I want it to be about us."

Hermione nodded and tried to reframe. "I still need to apologize for the last year, Ron," Hermione said. "Because… because I've said terrible things."

"You weren't wrong," Ron said.

"Yes I was," Hermione said. She couldn't look at Ron now. Her eyes were tearing up, even as he continued to hold her tight.

"Well, maybe about that whole Miss Ford thing," Ron said with a grin.

Hermione tried to return it, but couldn't quite get there. "I don't know that I'll ever be good about keeping myself completely in check," Hermione said. "But we can schedule couples' therapy and work at it. And I'll be better."

Ron nodded solemnly, running his thumb along Hermione's cheekbone. "I'll be better, too."

Hermione smiled at him, then blinked out her tears. "That said, you kind of slept through our last appointment with Yarborough," she said.

Ron's grin grew. "Yeah, I think I owe you for that."

"Big time."

"Big time," Ron agreed. Hermione reached out to finish covering his wounds.

* * *

 ** _Three years later_**

"You really feel strongly about this?" Hermione asked Ron, looking over to him through their bathroom mirror as she fiddled with the pins in her hair.

"I do," Ron said, adjusting his tie. "And I know what you're going to say, but I just want you to support me on this one."

Hermione considered this, narrowing her eyes a little. "Alright, keep the goatee," she said. "But don't say I didn't warn you when George takes the mick out of you all night. There will be pictures there, too, so you'll have to live with that in the long term."

Ron grunted and grabbed the shaving cream and razor. They were heading to the annual New Year's Eve party hosted by Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Rose was entertaining Hugo as they both got ready.

"Have you thought about letting Hugo join the league?" Ron asked, taking his first swipe into the goatee he had spent all month cultivating.

Ginny had brought them the news the week before that there was a London pitch starting a youth league for Quidditch. Ron was immediately sold on the idea.

"I have," Hermione said, knowing he wasn't going to like her conclusion. "I think he's too young."

Ron didn't say anything for a minute. "Can you explain why you think he's too young?" he asked.

It took months. Months and months of endless work on both of their parts to get to this point—a point where they would hear each other out. Where they wouldn't come up with immediate stances with which to dig in their heels. It took patience and forgiveness and, particularly on Hermione's part, a great deal of humility. It took fighting, too. The fighting didn't end immediately. At times it seemed like it would never really end.

Of course there were things that did change right away in the way they fought. Hermione learned to curb any desire to take a low blow. She bit back before she said anything hurtful. Hermione would make lists of off limit things and would bring them up with Ron, asking if he was happy, rather than reserving those items for a moment of weakness. Ron developed a habit when it would get heated to stop in the middle of their argument, hold her face in his hands and ask, "you know as irritated as I am right now, I love you? You know that right?"

It almost always brought things back into perspective. Slowly and surely that became the focus of their discussions. No, they didn't always agree, but they loved each other. And in times like this, when Ron didn't jump into counter arguments, Hermione wondered why they hadn't always been this way. It was so much easier, overall, than how things had been before.

"I just think he's a bit young to have bludgers flying at his head," Hermione said. "Or to be flying more than one story high either."

"Okay," Ron said, taking this in. "You know, they are imposing different rules."

"Will there still be bludgers?" Hermione asked. Ron was the one who was able to go to the informational meeting.

"Yes, but they won't be weighted," Ron said. "And the kids will all be required to wear helmets."

"You know Hugo tends to just dash into things, though. I can just see him jumping onto the field and not paying attention to whether or not he has a helmet, or something like that."

"We can make it a stipulation for him," Ron said. "He's not allowed on the pitch without a helmet. Make it a habit." He rinsed the last of the shaving cream from his chin, grabbing a face towel to dry off the water.

"I don't know." Hermione put on a finishing powder and turned to Ron. "I know Lily will be participating and Hugo wants to do it with her, but I just think he's a little young to be dealing with the types of injuries that happen in Quidditch."

She looked at Ron. He was licking his lips and nodding at what she said. "But I know it's something you would have fun doing with him," Hermione added. "I know you were excited."

"Yeah, I was," Ron said.

"Alright, how about this," Hermione said. "If you're able to coach Hugo's team, he can start this year. Otherwise… next year?"

Ron smiled at Hermione. "Okay," he said. "I'll see if they have anymore spots for that. Assistant coach work?"

"Now you're pushing it," Hermione said with a smirk.

Hermione pulled her dress from the hanger on the closet door, careful not to mess up her hair as she pulled it over her head. She began to zip it up and Ron stepped up behind her, lowering his lips to her neck as he finished it off.

"I'm looking forward to taking this off later," he whispered.

Hermione turned to face him, Ron's hands around her waist as she smiled up at him. "I just put my lipstick on," she said as he leaned in.

"We'll match, then," Ron said, taking her lips. His arms wrapped around her back, pulling her into him. He kissed down her neck and added in a whisper, "or you could change colors and we could start some rumors."

Hermione laughed, pulling Ron back and wiping the tint left behind on his lips. A knock at the door pulled them from the moment. Hermione turned for her earrings as Ron walked out to answer the door. She searched for her purse as she went into the living room, both of their children tackling Britney's legs from either side.

"We left some money on the counter to get pizza," Ron said. "And we told Rose and Hugo it was up to you what their bedtime was tonight."

"Do we get to stay up until midnight?" Rose asked, tugging on her arm. Britney had become a regular sitter in their home when Ron and Hermione went out on the weekends. Rose and Hugo adored her, though she was getting increasingly busy with her school work. In the summers they always had Teddy to turn to or Victoire in a pinch, but no one was quite as beloved a caretaker as Britney.

"Sure!" Britney said. Rose and Hugo started to do a sort of victory dance.

"She is welcome to change her mind," Hermione said, pulling Hugo into her, giving him a hug and kissing his cheek. The same red color now stained his cheek as it had Ron's lips. "So you two be nice, alright?"

Rose wasn't even paying attention as she peeked into Britney's bags of fun and goodies. Hermione held Rose's shoulders, bending down to give her a kiss on her cheek. Ron held out Hermione's cloak for her.

"We'll be back around two," Ron said. "You're welcome to use the guest room if you'd rather stay the night."

"Thanks," Britney said. "Have fun!"

Ron and Hermione left, walking out to the car waiting for them. Ron opened the door for her and Hermione joined Harry and Ginny in the back seat.

"Thanks for waiting," Ron said as he slid into the seat beside her.

They gossiped and talked on the way over, Ginny incredulous that Hermione wasn't certain about the league. She shrugged once Ron explained their compromise.

"I wouldn't mind if Lily were on a team with someone she knew," Ginny admitted. "They haven't decided how they are dividing them up yet, though."

When they got to the outside of the large, rented out hall, Ron and Hermione got out first as Ginny and Harry followed. They mingled and Hermione watched Ron as he chatted up various other vendors and owners of shops along Diagon Alley. She watched his face as it lit up at a joke or became pensive in talks of business. She was amazed to find just how well he fit into this world, joking around with George, who relied heavily on Ron to continue developing ideas and locations. They were brilliant together.

There was dinner and dancing, and plenty of fireworks provided by Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, but Hermione got the largest thrill whenever Ron's hand captured hers, squeezing it tightly in the crowd. George got up front, one arm tucked neatly around Angelina, as he announced the countdown would soon begin. He ordered everyone to grab a glass, which they did enthusiastically. Ron looked down and locked eyes with Hermione, his smile steady.

"I fall in love with you a little more everyday," Hermione said quietly. "I'm ready for another year with you."

Ron held Hermione by the neck leaning into her. They began to kiss as everyone else counted down. _Ten, nine.._. Hermione moved her arm around his middle, pulling him into her. Their lips moved against one another, the shouts— _six, five, four_ —echoed around them, but they were in their own world. As everyone else shouted _Happy New Year_ they continued.

They were one of the last couples to break apart, but they continued looking at one another.

"I'm ready for a hundred more," Ron said.

* * *

 **A/N:** As promised, warm fuzzy ending! As I mentioned in responses to a lot of you, the background to who those people were and exactly what they wanted was a little hard to fit neatly into the last chapter without it getting clunky. I hope it's all come together here. Thank you again for everyone who has reviewed! I really enjoy hearing your thoughts! (And if you haven't reviewed, I would still love to hear from you now!)


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